


Easier Said than Done

by smoreo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Komaeda Nagito, Canon Compliant, Grinding, Hajime tries to resist, Hand Jobs, Heavy Petting, M/M, Makoto can't resist either of them, Massage, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Hinata Hajime, but it's Nagito so he can't, only in the last chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoreo/pseuds/smoreo
Summary: All Hajime had to do was go in, make sure Nagito didn’t starve, and leave. That was it.Nagito had other plans.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 16
Kudos: 707





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love these two

As soon as Mahiru shoved the tray of toast and milk in his hands, Hajime figured that today was not going to be a good day. First, Monokuma was hanging this strange murder game over their heads, and now, he had to go interact with the person who instigated the _murder_ of two of their friends? 

He knew that he probably should’ve skipped breakfast today. 

Resigning to his fate, Hajime left the hotel, the tray getting heavier and heavier the closer he got to the old building. He dragged his feet to prolong the meeting as soon as possible, but he still arrived at the place way too soon. 

Hajime stared up at the building, memories of fun and laughter quickly being smothered by death and deception. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was going to spend a few minutes with Nagito at best. There was no need to get worked up about it. 

All he had to do was go in, make sure Nagito didn’t starve, and leave. That was it. 

…Why was he so nervous, then?

Hajime attempted to shake off the feeling of unease, quelling his hammering heart as he stepped through the front door. He nearly had a heart attack when Monomi appeared out of nowhere, but after mentioning the threat of starvation, she let him through. 

He shuffled over to the doors leading to the dining hall, something in his gut twisting as he crept closer. His footsteps echoed loudly in his ears until he came to a stop. He listened for any sound on the other side. There was none. Maybe Nagito was still asleep? 

Hajime almost went with that conclusion and turned around, but a tiny section in the back of his brain made him stay and push the door open without another thought. 

He spotted Nagito instantly. He was on the opposite side of the room, lying on his side. A thick rope secured his legs while a metallic chain bound his arms together. Hajime paused at the sight, that same section of his brain from before thinking that Kazuichi and Nekomaru went a bit overboard. Nagito still had his jacket on, and well, the old building didn’t have the best air conditioning. 

However, those thoughts quickly vanished when Nagito craned his neck, looking to see who arrived. The smile on his face was wide, too wide, and Hajime felt anxious at the sight of it.

He couldn’t trust that smile anymore, not after all Nagito had done.

“Hajime?” he called, voice light and upbeat despite his situation. Nagito’s eyes crinkled when he saw the breakfast tray. “Ah, could it be…? Did you take time out of your busy day to bring some food to little old-“

“Stop.” Hajime nearly snapped, fingers tightly gripping the tray. “Just... _stop.”_ He didn't want to listen to anything Nagito had to say. His tone sharply contrasted the bleak atmosphere, and Hajime wasn’t going to let him continue. It was dangerous to let Nagito talk. 

Also...Hajime hated how his voice, raspy yet melodious, affected him so much. He was ashamed of how much he was drawn to it, especially before that dreadful party. It was helpful, encouraging, kind, and it didn’t help that an attractive face was attached to it. Nagito’s gravitational pull had been too great to escape, not that Hajime fought hard in the first place.

But because of that, he had fallen for nothing but a mask, and he despised himself for it.

Exhaling shakily, Hajime quelled his anger enough to say, “I’m here to deliver this, but if you say another word, you’re getting nothing.” He needed to leave as soon as possible before he got pulled in again.

Nagito blinked up at him, opening his mouth, but he wisely closed it a second later. He didn’t seem offended, though. There was no irritation in his open gaze, just curiosity and a hint of happiness that shouldn’t be there. He took his warning to heart, at least.

Steeling himself, Hajime stepped further into the room and tried not to let his discomfort show on his face. Nagito continued to stare, and his smile came back. But it was smaller, more controlled, and Hajime remembered the first time Nagito introduced himself. It was with that same smile. Despite his confusion and panic, Hajime had been calmed by it. 

Now, it was hiding the twisted darkness that lurked underneath. 

Hajime stopped in front of Nagito, shifting his gaze to a spot over his shoulder. Maintaining eye contact was too much right now. He stood there, cursing the fact that Nagito’s hands were tied up. It was a necessity, he knew that, but Nagito wouldn’t be able to easily eat. 

He deserved the challenge, and much more, but once again, that piece of Hajime’s mind - where pity resided - caused him to lower himself to his knees. 

Ignoring those eyes still trained on his face, Hajime cleared his mind, emotions, everything, as he placed the tray on the ground. He then reached out for one of Nagito’s arms, grunting when he lifted the boy’s upper body off the floor. He sat up and positioned him so that he rested on his knees as well. This way, Nagito wouldn’t choke on anything, reducing the risk of an accidental class trial.

Hajime sighed and picked up the tray once more. He eyed the container of jelly beside the toast, thinking about forgoing it and giving Nagito the toast as is. But, “Do you want jelly on it?” Hajime asked, reluctantly lifting his head.

Nagito seemed to brighten a bit at the question, nodding.

Dropping his gaze, Hajime got to work, ignoring as best as he could how Nagito watched his every move. Peeling the top of the jelly, grabbing the very _very_ dull butter knife, and slathering the sweet stuff all over the toast. 

Hajime lifted the toast up to Nagito and averted his eyes when he opened his mouth to take a bite. Nagito chewed, swallowed, and repeated the process. Hajime was conscious of how close his fingers were getting to crumb-covered lips.

He was also very aware of the dab of grape jelly smeared on the side of Nagito’s mouth, it remaining there even as he finished. A pink tongue darted out to lick away the crumbs, but it couldn’t reach the smear. 

Hajime clenched his jaw as he watched, knowing that there weren’t any napkins around. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as Nagito licked, and his frustration grew when he continuously missed the jelly. 

Hajime’s thumb moved on its own. It slid across Nagito’s cheek, rubbing off the jelly, and Hajime froze when he realized what the hell he just did. Nagito paused as well, eyes widening. Hajime sucked in a sharp breath once his brain rebooted, and he made a move to retract his finger, planning on making a break for it. Nagito would have to figure out how to open the milk by himself. 

However, something wet brushing against the pad of his thumb shattered that plan to pieces.

Nagito had turned his head, pressing his lips against the digit. His tongue was now lapping at the jelly, it wet and warm and Hajime couldn’t do anything. He just sat, heart rate skyrocketing, as Nagito cleaned off the jelly. Each stroke was slow and deliberate. Hot breath brushed against Hajime’s hypersensitive skin. 

Hajime thickly swallowed before lifting his gaze up. 

He instantly regretted doing so. 

Nagito was looking right at him. His eyes were intense like they were drinking in Hajime’s reaction. Then they darkened, becoming half-lidded, as Nagito leaned forward. 

A gasp escaped Hajime’s throat when his thumb was engulfed with warm heat. At first it was only to the first joint, but then soft lips slid all the way down, taking all of it in. Nagito’s eyes never drifted, remaining locked with Hajime’s as his tongue swiped the underside of the thumb, caressing it, drenching it.

Something akin to electricity traveled down Hajime’s spine when Nagito sucked, heat pooling down below. Hajime stared, mesmerized, before slowly hooking his thumb, pressing it against that eager tongue. Nagito quietly hummed in response. The vibration rushed Hajime’s blood down south, and he wondered how it would feel if…

A bigger more sensible part of him was screaming to leave, or at least stop what was happening, but Hajime paid no attention to it as he slowly retracted his thumb. Nagito released it without any fight, the digit coming out glossy, a string of saliva connecting it to damp lips. 

Nagito continued to watch as he lowered his thumb, gently rubbing it against his bottom lip. Nagito flicked his tongue out again, brushing against it, and Hajime examined the boy in front of him. Long lashes framed hazy eyes, normally pale skin was tinted pink, and...and…

_Dammit._

Hajime left those inviting lips alone, instead cupping Nagito’s chin, grip a little tighter than it probably should’ve been. Nagito wasn’t bothered. He simply stared, curiosity swirling in those dangerous eyes of his.

“Why?” Hajime whispered, but he might as well have yelled it in the silent air of the dining hall. His voice was low, gravelly, but still got Nagito to blink in confusion. His next words were louder. “Why did you _lie,_ Nagito?” 

It wasn’t fair. Hajime has had small crushes here and there in his past, but Nagito was...was too good to be true, apparently. He was a star he’d gotten too close to, and now everything was engulfed in flames around him. 

And yet, and yet…

Nagito made a noise in the back of his throat, leaning into his touch. There was something new shining in his eyes, and Hajime wanted so badly to label it as remorse or shame or _something_ that showed care for their dead friends. Hajime couldn’t place it though, so he just hoped that was the case when he closed his eyes and brushed Nagito’s lips with his own. 

Another sound came from Nagito, it more of a breathy whine, and Hajime pressed harder. He loosened his grip on the boy’s chin, instead moving it around to lace his fingers through the soft hairs along Nagito’s nape. He hummed when Nagito reciprocated as much as he could, lips slotting against his over and over again. 

Hajime ran his tongue along Nagito’s bottom lip, and arousal danced in his veins when Nagito opened up for him, clearly wanting this as much as Hajime did. 

Tongues collided and they battled, pushing and pulling until Nagito guided Hajime into his mouth and sucked. Hajime groaned, shifting more foward to explore every inch of what was granted to him. Everything tasted sweet thanks to the jelly, and he wanted more. 

Hajime huffed into his mouth, tilting his head in order to go deeper. Their tongues slow danced with one another, and Nagito was the one to groan this time, low and needy. Hajime swallowed it all. He swallowed every little sound the boy made, shifting when his pants grew tighter and tighter. 

The feeling was soon overshadowed by the need to breathe. 

Hajime reluctantly detached from Nagito’s intoxicating mouth, opening his eyes to see puffy parted lips, glistening drool, and a gaze that pleaded for him to continue. When Hajime didn’t move, breaths intermingling as he took in the sight, Nagito attempted to recapture his lips.

Hajime tightened his hold of white locks and pulled, raising Nagito’s chin to the ceiling. Nagito gasped at the rough treatment, and Hajime watched hungrily when he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

The pale skin of Nagito’s neck was flawless, soft and smooth. Hajime had the urge to mark it up, leave bites and bruises to let out his frustrations. But he couldn’t. First, purple and blue would stick out like a sore thumb, letting the rest of his friends know exactly what went on in here, and secondly, it wouldn’t be a punishment. Nagito would like it, he was sure. He’d beg Hajime for more, to bite _harder…_

Hajime bit his tongue to keep the incoming moan at bay, cock twitching at the visual. 

Pulling from the little control he had left, he leaned forward and peppered light kisses along the column of Nagito’s throat. A pleased sigh spurred Hajime on. He added tongue, placing open-mouth kisses on every inch of skin he could reach. Nagito whimpered and it turned into a guttural moan when Hajime sucked the underside of his jaw, careful of his teeth. 

Hajime groaned in tandem, that beautiful voice doing things to him he couldn’t understand. He could listen to it all day, all night, and never get tired of it...as long as it didn’t spout anything about stepping stones and hope. 

At that little reminder, Hajime tugged even harder at Nagito’s hair, and he panted into the air above them, body arching beautifully. Hajime continued to assault his neck, sucking at Nagito’s pulse to make him squirm, and he figured that it was time to put his other hand to work.

While his left hand was entangled in hair, Hajime used his right to trail his fingers down Nagito’s clothed chest, stomach, naval. Nagito shivered at the touch. Hajime paused for a moment before burying beneath the shirt, coming in contact with the warm skin waiting for him to touch, to torture. 

Curious fingers glided over developing abs, feeling them tremble under their minimal touch. Hajime recaptured Nagito’s lips when he scraped his dull nails against the skin there, drinking the resulting whine. His left hand had abandoned its post, now resting around the top of Nagito’s neck, feeling every movement as their tongues danced together.

Spittle dripped down Hajime’s chin, but he didn’t care. All his focus was on Nagito. Breathing him in, affecting him in ways no one else could. His right hand traveled farther up, kneading the boy’s firm chest. Nagito pressed against his fingers, especially when Hajime found a perked nipple and flicked it.

Nagito cried into his mouth, quieting down to a moan when Hajime rolled the sensitive skin around with his thumb. Hajime then left Nagito’s mouth, licking up his jaw until he reached his ear. He bit down on the lobe, his left hand joining his right under Nagito’s shirt.

“You don’t deserve this.” Hajime breathed against him, lips brushing against skin. “I shouldn’t be giving you what you want, but I can’t…”

He couldn’t stop thinking about him. Either because of his soft smiles and encouraging words, or because of the darkness hidden in his eyes and the lies that fell from his lips. Nagito was always on his mind, whether he liked it or not.

“It’s all your fault,” Hajime muttered, a growl leaking into his voice. He bit again, twisting both nipples at the same time. 

Nagito threw his head back, moaning out, “Haji... _me..."_

“ _Shit_ ,” Hajime cursed, the broken sound of his name making him want to force it out of Nagito again and again and _again._

However. 

It took a lot of effort, but Hajime peeled away from Nagito’s body, removing his hands from under his shirt. He took a deep breath to calm his wired nerves as he picked up the discarded tray. The milk carton was still there, unopened. He’d forgotten all about it. Well, it was too late now.

Hajime stood, willing his heart rate to slow back down to normal and hoping that his erection wasn’t very noticeable. Taking another steadying breath, Hajime shifted his gaze from the tray down to Nagito. He was staring up at him in confusion, panting similar to a puppy who had gotten its toy taken away. 

Hajime paid not attention to how swollen his lips were or how bunched his shirt was, showing off a sliver of stomach Hajime itched to touch again. He forcefully ignored all of that, instead saying, “You talked.” His voice wasn’t as steady as he hoped it would’ve been.

His words took some time to process in Nagito’s hazy mind, but once they did, he averted his eyes to the side. “Ah...I guess I did,” he rasped, barely a whisper. “I can’t even listen to instructions correctly." He chuckled. "It's true that I'm completely worthless.”

There it was again. Hajime wasn’t in the mood for his self-deprecation. Especially since it was clear that he was everything _but_ worthless. No one was. All life had value. 

If only he could hammer that in Nagito’s mind. 

Hajime didn’t bother answering, shuffling away from him. Putting enough distance between them before his body decided that he should stay. Nagito thanked him for breakfast as he left, voice too chipper once more, and his only response was closing the dining hall’s door behind him. 

Hajime leaned heavily against the wood, releasing a long sigh. “Never again,” he whispered lowly. He was just going to hurt himself in the long run. He shouldn't play with fire like this. Sure, everything was already burning down, but he shouldn’t make things worse. He had to resist his urges. Had to. 

Resolve set, Hajime left the old building and hoped that no one asked too many questions. 

Later on in his cottage, after he came to the mental image of Nagito wrapping those soft lips around his cock, Hajime realized that resisting might be harder than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter fast forwards to the Despair Disease!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see how well Hajime's 'Resist Nagito' plan is going, shall we?

“Then...even though it’s in the morning, good night…”

Mikan wobbled out of the hospital room after that stuttering farewell, and Hajime instantly felt eyes on him, eyes he had desperately tried to avoid ever since the old building incident. 

He had put as much space between him and Nagito as often as he could, keeping an iron grip on his restraint. Getting too close to him was dangerous for his mind and body. Even though Nagito had been more bearable during the second trial, being somewhat helpful, his true nature was still lurking beneath the surface. 

So, Hajime had kept his distance, but it had been nowhere near easy. Nagito just wouldn’t leave him _alone._ More often than not, Hajime would see wispy white hair and that soft smile anywhere he went. He had to keep reminding himself that Nagito was unstable, that he had no qualms about taking someone’s life for the sake of...of _hope_. Those thoughts gave him the ability to immediately find an escape route when Nagito was near, or make up some excuse whenever Nagito approached him for conversation. That way, Hajime was able to keep his...questionable urges to himself.

But even so, he still couldn’t get Nagito out of his mind. He’d think about how soft his hair was, about the breathy chuckle he sometimes did that sharply contrasted his unhinged laughter, how a slender yet lean body was constantly hidden by that oversized jacket, and…

...and now, Nagito had the Despair Disease, and worry had filtered through his veins ever since Nagito collapsed on the restaurant floor.

It was because of that worry that Hajime was here now, standing in Nagito’s hospital room after Mikan told him he had woken up from his near unconscious state. Hajime had wanted to see that Nagito wasn’t on the brink of death anymore, that’s all, and now it was best if he let Nagito get some more rest to ride it out. Fuyuhiko would be in the lobby soon, and he should-

“All alone with Hajime, huh…” a voice muttered, breathy and cracked. Hajime almost bolted out of the room then and there, but for some reason, his feet stayed planted.

He didn’t know why. Maybe it was out of concern? That since Mikan wasn't going to be available, he should listen to what he had to say? Or maybe it was out of curiosity? Nothing but lies fell out of Nagito’s mouth now, guaranteed. Maybe it was a mixture of the two, and yet _again_ , Hajime couldn’t escape the gravitational force that was Nagito Komaeda. 

Taking his eyes off the door Mikan left out of, the one he should have followed her through, Hajime looked over at the occupied hospital bed. Nagito was sitting up and staring back at him. Nagito was a sorry sight. He had always been on the paler side, but his skin was a milky white now, glistening with sweat. Prominent bags lived under glossy eyes that seemed to try their hardest to stay focused. His breathing was somewhat labored, chest heaving under the loose hospital gown covering his frail frame. He was hunched over with his hands clenching the sheets bundled in his lap. 

This...had to be torture for him. The symptoms didn’t hit Akane or Ibuki as hard as they did Nagito. Nowhere near.

Hajime focused on Nagito’s face when chapped lips parted again. “I-I can’t stand being in the same room as you,” he rasped, shallowly coughing afterward.

Hajime almost frowned as a knee jerk reaction, but then he remembered that it had to be a lie. Nagito didn’t mind him being here...which wasn’t that surprising, actually. He always seemed to enjoy Hajime’s presence, and it didn’t help Hajime’s predicament at all. 

Despite Nagito’s words, Hajime forced himself to take a step towards the door. “Yeah, I know, but I think you need to get some rest so you get better.” If he _could._ Hajime had no idea how this disease worked other than what Monokuma told them. “I’ll just keep you up and-“

“What are y-you doing?” Nagito suddenly asked, his words spilling out. His eyes were wide, desperate. “Hurry up and g-go away.” The fingers gripping the sheets curled tighter. “I don’t want to see your face anymore.”

Now _that_ , Hajime didn’t expect. He stopped in his tracks, staring at Nagito in surprise. He’d never heard him sound so desperate before, almost pleading. Nagito was leaning in his direction now, a frown curling his lips, and Hajime felt something within him twist as he realized the true meaning of those words. 

_Stop, don’t go. I want to see you._

A part of Hajime’s brain - curse that part, honestly - wanted to listen. It was a huge part actually, pointing out that Nagito was clearly hurting and would like some company to get through it. It was a request a kind person would do, so Hajime should just get over himself this once and help. This wasn’t about his raging hormones anymore. Nagito was _sick._

“I guess...I could stay for a bit,” Hajime said, and Nagito blinked in surprise, smiling ever so slightly. Relief swirled in his hazy eyes while his grip loosened on the sheets. Warmth bubbled in Hajime’s chest at the reaction; he paid it no attention as he approached the bed. “Not too long, though. I have to go to the lobby to check on the others in a little while.”

While Hajime cursed the unfortunate fact that there were no places to sit other than the bed, Nagito tilted his head with furrowed brows before lowering his gaze to the sheets. Hajime was confused by this sudden shift until Nagito said, “A-Actually, you should stay. I deserve your attention...it’s clear that you l-love me.”

Hajime took a moment to unwrap all of that. 

_You should go. I don’t deserve your attention...it’s clear that you hate me._

Once the meaning processed, guilt settled in his stomach, hard and heavy. Nagito has always said self-deprecating things, but this was different. In a way, Nagito was selfish. He never involved anyone else in his dark thoughts. It was always him putting himself down. But now…

He thought Hajime hated him?

...was he right?

No, that felt wrong. Nagito had done terrible things in the past, and his moral code was practically nonexistent, but hate? Hajime looked down at the patient, seeing him fiddle with the edge of the blanket, stringy hair framing his face. Many emotions swirled within Hajime at that moment, and none of them were hate. Far from it. He knew that he probably should, but…

“I don’t hate you, Nagito,” he quietly argued, and the statement sounded hollow even in his own ears. He didn’t really have any proof to back it up. He had been avoiding Nagito like the plague, and he never did talk to him about what happened in the old building. Hajime had cut him off completely after that and didn’t consider once how Nagito felt about it. Honestly, he believed that Nagito didn’t care because of how unbothered and persistent he was. That definitely wasn’t the case, though.

There was a chuckle, weak and vacant. “You d-don’t have to tell the truth, Hajime. I must be extremely pleasing to you, a beautiful gift.” A flash of frustration appeared on Nagito’s face before he smiled at Hajime again. It was plastic this time, cracking at the edges. “I don’t understand why you feel that way.”

“No, seriously, I don’t…I mean-” Hajime tripped over his words as he sat on the edge of the bed, twisting a little to look at Nagito easier. The smile was still there, but it wasn’t the one Hajime had seen day in and day out. The disease must be wearing on him in more ways than one. The mask wasn’t as pristine as usual. It was throwing Hajime off. He sighed, focusing on a nearby window and the dreary landscape beyond it as he said, “I really don’t hate you, Nagito. Some of the things you do are confusing and frustrating, but I don’t think you’re trash.”

Nagito shook his head. “You sh-shouldn’t.”

Hajime figured that persuading him wouldn’t be easy. Actions spoke louder than words after all. He took in Nagito’s form once more, how much the sickness was taking its toll on his body. Hajime...should at least try to ease his mind. Before he could convince himself not to do it, he forced out, “I wouldn’t have done what I did in the old building if I hated you.”

The moment of realization Hajime expected didn’t come. Instead, Nagito laughed. It was more like a wheeze, actually, and Hajime frowned. That wasn’t supposed to be funny.

“What happened there wasn’t my fault,” Nagito eventually uttered, brushing some damp hair off his forehead. “I ended it, and your body didn’t respond. You wouldn’t have done it with anyone else if they had done the same thing.”

“No, I wouldn’t have.” Hajime declared, shutting down that idea then and there. Cloudy eyes blinked at him in slight surprise. “I did it because it was you.” He wasn’t that kind of person. He could’ve walked away at any time before things escalated. “I know you probably don’t believe me because of how I’ve been treating you lately, but that’s-“

The rest of his words got caught in his throat when Nagito suddenly lurched forward with a groan. Hajime shot out a hand to grab a shoulder, preventing him from falling face-first into the mattress. “Nagito?!” His only response was another pained sound while Nagito’s eyes squeezed closed. Concern shooting through the roof, Hajime scooted closer and gently pushed Nagito back until his head hit the pillow. 

Nagito hissed under his breath, jaw clenching, and Hajime didn’t know what to do. “I’m not s-sorry…” Those breathy words then reached Hajime's ears, barely heard over his loud thoughts. Nagito’s eyes slowly peeled open again. They trained on Hajime. Lips moved once more. “You sh-should have to worry about me.”

“I have every right to worry about you!” Hajime lifted his hand from Nagito’s shoulder to his clammy forehead, sucking in a sharp breath at how hot he was. Despite that, he also felt subtle trembles beneath his palm. Hajime glanced down and found that his whole body was shaking. “Are you...are you cold?”

Nagito inhaled deeply, muttering, “No.”

Hajime mentally cursed. He didn’t want to disrupt Mikan’s rest, but he couldn’t leave this alone. He began to lean away. “I’ll go get Mikan to see if she can help-“

Slender fingers grabbed his wrist before he could pull completely away. Hajime froze, watching speechless as Nagito guided his hand down to his flushed cheek, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Hajime’s palm. “Go,” he mumbled almost incoherently, words slurred. “I want M-Mikan. J-Just need to cool down…”

Hajime pushed feeling of Nagito’s soft yet burning cheek to the back of his mind. “Cool down...you mean you want to warm up? But you already have a fever!”

Nagito murmured something he didn’t understand against his hand, tightening his hold on it. Murky eyes found Hajime’s once again, the intensity present there making his chest clench. They were begging for him to stay, containing emotions words couldn’t portray. 

Hajime stared back, that gaze pulling him in, and the decision was already made. Once again, his resolve crumbled to nothing around Nagito. He couldn’t do anything to stop it. So, Hajime let him nuzzle his palm, asking, “I’ll stay, but how are you supposed to warm up? There might be a heater somewhere…”

He trailed off when Nagito’s unoccupied arm reached up and tugged his shirt sleeve, clearly communicating what he wanted. Hajime swore his heart skipped a beat. Nagito wanted him to lay down with him? He guessed...that there was no harm in that. Nagito would get the warmth he wanted, at least some of it. It was fine. 

Despite his mind telling him that, his body was stiff as he maneuvered more onto the bed, tucking his legs under the blanket. He had barely gotten comfortable before the little space between him and Nagito disappeared. Hajime stiffened when Nagito pressed against him, draping an arm over his waist and pulling him closer. Soft hairs tickled Hajime’s chin, Nagito’s head resting on his chest. 

Hajime stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, feeling Nagito’s radiant heat seeping through his clothes. He was still shivering, but it wasn’t as noticeable as before. Hajime opened and closed his mouth a few times before whispering into the silent room, “Is this good?”

“N-No,” Nagito answered just as lowly, intertwining one leg with Hajime’s. “You feel t-terrible.”

Hajime couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d gone all this time trying to push Nagito away only to end up in bed with him, literally. 

But...was that such a bad thing? He didn’t know anymore. 

“Funny how you want to cuddle with someone you think hates you,” Hajime awkwardly joked as he forced his heart to calm down. His body slowly but surely relaxed against Nagito’s, noticing how well they melded together. 

“You s-said you did.” Nagito held Hajime even tighter, like he was going to leave any moment. His voice almost sounded unsure. “Was that a lie, Hajime?” 

Hajime didn’t have to think about it. He buried a hand into white curls, combing his fingers through the heated roots. They were damp and a bit oily, but Nagito’s pleasant sigh was worth it. He continued the ministrations, answering, “No, I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“Okay,” was Nagito’s quiet response.

And so they laid there, Hajime enduring Nagito’s radiant warmth in favor of enjoying the feel of him by his side, something his imagination could never accurately imitate. Hajime almost wanted to hit himself. He could’ve had this earlier if he had remembered that Nagito was a complicated human being and not just a walking obstacle. 

Hajime’s mind went back to before Monokuma showed up, to how friendly Nagito was. In a way, Nagito was still like that, but the introduction of the killing game skewed his thoughts. What would’ve happened if that damn bear hadn’t shown up? He wasn’t sure, but when they got off the island, then maybe...maybe…

Hajime was thrown out of his musings when he felt Nagito loosen his hold on his waist. Hajime believed that Nagito had drifted off to sleep or was about to adjust to get more comfortable, but then his breath hitched when lithe fingers found their way under his shirt, splaying out against his naval. 

“N-Nagito?” Hajime was surprised that he got his tongue to work. “What are you doing?”

There was silence, and Hajime tensed when those fingers began to move. They danced over the taut skin below his belly button before traveling upwards, leaving a trail of fire as they went. Hajime’s nerves thrummed with shock and something else he refused to name, breaths becoming shallow. If Nagito noticed, he didn’t care. His too hot hand explored what was available: brushing over his quivering stomach, kneading his pliant sides, scraping dull nails down his chest. 

Heat was spreading, and Hajime as sure that it wasn’t from the disease. He swallowed thickly when those sinful fingers traveled lower once more, every touch igniting something within. Something dangerous he’d been struggling to keep under wraps for this long. 

Hajime gripped the sheets with his free hand, forcing himself to try again. “Nagito…What are you-“ The attempt failed when Nagito felt lower and lower until his fingers dipped under his belt. Nails raked over the sensitive skin there as well, and Hajime hissed through his teeth, resisting the urge to guide them to where all of his blood was rushing. 

It was then that Nagito shifted, lifting himself off Hajime’s chest a little to be face-to-face. Sweat moistened hair framed his face, his cheeks were flushed more than normal, and a trace of the trembles were still there, but dammit...the emotion swirling in those unwavering eyes nearly stole all of the breath from his lungs. It was the same look he had in the old building, if not more intense. 

“I can’t touch you now,” Nagito said, licking dry lips. Hajime watched the pink tongue dart out and remembered what it had done to him previously. Nagito had affected him so much with _just_ his tongue. “I’m not returning the favor from earlier. Can I?” 

Returning the favor? But Hajime barely had done anything to him in the first place. He ended it before things really escalated. In fact, Hajime probably left Nagito unsatisfied with a problem he couldn’t take care of with his own hands. There was no favor to return. 

Apparently, Nagito didn’t see it that way. 

The next thing Hajime knew, there was hot breath in his neck. “Hajime…” He heard, _felt_ , his name, lips brushing against his skin with every syllable. Nagito’s hair was tickling him again as that same raspy voice continued, “Please? I don’t want to make you feel good.”

“I…” Hajime didn’t know what to say. His mind was on the fritz at the moment, all too focused on Nagito’s fleeting touch that was both too low and not low enough. Common sense somehow pushed through though, and he stuttered, “A-Are you sure?” Nagito wasn’t in the best condition, and…

And the rest of his thoughts dissipated in a poof of smoke when Nagito placed a kiss over his humming pulse. It was chaste, not lasting more than a second, but it still caused a tingle to run down the length of his spine.

Nagito pulled back and smiled at him. There was a genuineness to it now as he said, “Not at all.” He then sat up completely, removing his hand from Hajime’s skin. It wasn’t gone for long however, for as soon as Nagito folded the sheets off of Hajime’s legs, eager fingers were loosening his belt buckle. 

Hajime’s throat went dry when Nagito began to pull his pants down. He lifted his hips, and Nagito shimmied them, along with his underwear, down to his knees. Electricity danced in Hajime’s veins when his half-hard dick hit the cool air. Nagito stared at it in wonder, and Hajime had half the mind to close his legs, not used to being so exposed and looked at in such a way. Making out with clothes on was one thing, but this...

“You’re...s-smaller than I imagined, Hajime,” Nagito whispered, and Hajime hardly had time to process that before a searing hand caressed his throbbing member. Hajime struggled to swallow the groan fighting its way out of his throat, hips twitching at the light touch. 

Nagito moved up and down, base to tip, and gently squeezed the head. More heat pooled within Hajime, Nagito’s touch being much different from his own. Both of his hands were gripping the sheets now to stay anchored in this reality. “Imagined…?” Hajime breathed, almost thrusting into Nagito’s hold when he paused to look at him. “You’ve thought about this before?”

Nagito nodded, and Hajime couldn’t hold in the groan this time when he massaged the tip with his thumb, smearing the leakage already gathering there. “No,” he murmured, cheeks flushing even more. Hajime guessed that he probably looked the same way. “You h-have too, right?”

There was no point in lying anymore. “Yeah,” Hajime answered, toes curling and concentration shattering when Nagito gave a squeeze, fingers pumping once, twice. “Nagito, _ah_ …”

Nagito was really looking at him now, cloudy yet darkened eyes trained on his face. He tightened his grip even more, and Hajime moaned, eyes slamming shut. He couldn’t stop his hips from bucking this time, itching for more friction. The opposite happened next though, and Hajime’s eyes opened in surprise when the touch disappeared. 

He watched bemused as Nagito left his side, nothing clicking in his muddled mind until Nagito crawled around to settle in between Hajime’s legs. Hajime released a shuddering breath, propping himself up on an elbow to see better. Nagito was eye level with his dick, chapped lips parted and inviting. The rest of his body was laying flat on the bed, comfortable for what he was about to do.

Warm breath flowed over the sensitive head, and Hajime’s thighs trembled in anticipation. Nagito’s gaze was nearly palpable as he stared at the twitching member, examining it up and down before meeting Hajime’s eyes in question. Hajime licked his own lips, nodding after a pregnant moment.

Hajime couldn’t tear his eyes away from Nagito’s finger as it traced a pulsing vein from base to tip, touch feathery light. Even so, his nerves were being set on _fire._ “S-So ugly...” Nagito muttered, and Hajime sputtered at the unexpected compliment until Nagito leaned forward to tongue the leaking slit. 

A strangled sound pierced the air, and Hajime almost couldn’t believe that it came out of his own mouth. But he couldn’t ponder that for too long, because Nagito had rested his head on his inner thigh. Nagito traced the same vein, from top to bottom this time, before leaning in and kissing the base of his dick. It started off soft, but then he pressed harder, opening his mouth and letting his tongue run over the sensitive skin. 

Hajime gasped for air, body wound tight as Nagito continued his assault, leaving sloppy kisses along the side. His hazy eyes never left Hajime’s face, leaving trails of saliva wherever he went. 

At a particularly hard suck, Hajime cursed as he his legs shook even more. “ _Shit,_ Nagito…” He shot out a hand and weaved his fingers into white locks. He didn’t push or pull, simply needing something to keep him from floating away, and Nagito hummed at the touch. He slid his moist lips up the shaft until he reached the tip, giving it a gentle kiss. 

Then, he parted those sinful, _dangerous_ lips and guided Hajime into his mouth. 

Hajime threw his head back and moaned, low and primal. Nagito hummed once again around him, the vibration leaving him breathless. Panting, Hajime lowered his head to find Nagito waiting for him, mouth engulfing the tip of his dick. A sopping wet tongue lapped at the underside before tasting the slit again. 

“F-Feels so good.” Hajime’s voice cracked, moving his hips and groaning in frustration when a hand pinned him to the bed. The attack didn’t stop. “But…” Hajime tightened his grip on Nagito’s hair, pulling slightly. “I need you to…ahh- _mmmm…”_ He couldn’t finish his request, for Nagito groaned around his length and sunk down lower. Nagito lapped, sucked, hummed, and it was _maddening._

He felt drool run down his arousal when Nagito began to bob his head back and forth, only adding to the _filthy_ sounds that filled the air. Hajime’s moans were one of them. He was unable to control his voice anymore, his mind too lost in a pleasure-induced fog to find its way out. 

All he could do was tug harder on Nagito’s hair, and Nagito’s eyes fluttered closed once he did so. He moaned around Hajime’s cock, taking more into his mouth as he reached a hand underneath himself. Hajime blinked in confusion at him, but once the arm started moving, pieces somehow clicked in his overloaded brain. 

“Nagito,” he called, it a borderline whimper when Nagito sucked hard, swallowing around him. Nagito didn’t seem to notice at first. His arm was moving faster. Hajime tried again, sharpening his tone and, with some effort, pulling Nagito off of him. 

He released Hajime with an audible slurp, surprise flickering across his face. Hajime swallowed thickly at Nagito’s condition. His lips were red and swollen, his chin was dripping with a mixture of pre-cum and spit, and his mouth was wide open, breathing harshly. The arm underneath his cleaving chest had stopped moving.

Unsure where this spark of possessiveness came from, Hajime ordered, “Don’t touch yourself. You said that you wanted to please me, right?” 

It took a few moments for Nagito to understand. Once he did, a low whine escaped him that made Hajime’s swollen cock twitch. “Haji…”

“No,” Hajime opposed, yanking Nagito’s head slightly to the side. Something sounding like a mixture between a hiss and a moan was breathed through glistening lips, and Nagito ever-so-slowly removed his hand from its hiding place. It curled into the sheets instead; Hajime noticed a few wet streaks on his knuckles. 

“You…” He refocused on Nagito, loosening his grip only to push him back down to this awaiting arousal. Nagito was pliant, knuckles straining at his side, and Hajime made another connection. “You like this, don’t you? Being ordered around?” 

Nagito smiled up at him with lidded eyes, gazing through damp lashes. “I-I’ll do nothing for Hajime.” He wrapped his fingers around Hajime’s cock and pumped, the movement easier now because of how drenched it was. Hajime brokenly groaned. Nagito chuckled. “I hate the sounds you make…”

Nagito then continued what he was doing before, taking Hajime all the way down to the base, and all of his bones turned into jelly. 

The arm supporting him gave out, and Hajime landed on the pillow beneath him. The fingers tangled in Nagito’s hair fell away as that hot and wet mouth completely swallowed him. Nagito made a gagging sound, but he didn’t pull away, and the way his throat contracted around Hajime was too much. 

He covered his mouth with a hand right before something within him _snapped._

Hajime saw white as he came, neurons firing all at once under his wired skin, and his hand was the only thing keeping Ibuki and Akane from learning what _exactly_ went on in this room. 

His vision returned after a moment, and his body relaxed, melting into the mattress. He let out a shaky sigh, lungs struggling to get the proper amount of air in them. The high was slowly coming down. It drained his energy as it went.

There was movement, and Hajime winced when his flaccid member slid out of the surrounding warmth, over-sensitive. Weary eyes drifted from the ceiling to Nagito, catching him licking up the cum that had spilled from his lips. He swallowed it without a second thought. 

The sight alone would’ve gotten him up again if he wasn’t already spent.

Nagito then crawled back to his side, plopping down and burying his face into the pillow. He smiled at Hajime, it borderline loopy, and hoarsely asked, “Did I return the favor?”

“Yeah…” And then some.

“Are you going to leave now?”

Hajime turned to fully face Nagito, seeing him look back with wide eyes that weren’t the clearest. The disease was still there lurking within. Hajime reached up and brushed white hair off his glistening forehead, Nagito watching him to do with interest. He could leave now and still have plenty of time before Fuyuhiko arrived, but he couldn’t leave everything like this. It wouldn’t be fair to Nagito. 

“In a few minutes,” Hajime answered. Nagito opened his mouth to probably ask a question, but Hajime leaned forward before any words could come out. He knew that he shouldn’t do this because of the sickness, however, at this point, if he caught it he didn’t care. Considering that he was planning on being in the hospital basically every day until a cure was found, contracting it was inevitable. 

And if this was how he got it, well…

Hajime didn’t hesitate in slipping his tongue inside, tasting himself everywhere. Nagito quietly gasped before melting into the kiss. It wasn’t like before in the old building. That kiss was rushed, desperate, but this was slower, more languid. The anger Hajime felt back then evaporated into nothingness, replaced with...acceptance? Curiosity? He didn’t really know. 

While nibbling in Nagito’s bottom lip, causing him to sigh, Hajime reached down and began to undo the tie around Nagito’s waist. Nagito pulled away, confused, but he silenced him again by licking back into his moist cavern. Nagito’s hesitance only lasted a moment, for he returned his kisses with no questions.

Despite not being able to see it, Hajime easily untied the gown. He slid his hand inside and appreciated the clammy yet smooth skin he found underneath. Fingers copied what Nagito did before, massaging and kneading trembling muscles. Hajime was on a mission, though, so he didn’t linger there for long. He traveled south, brushing past a belly button and finally reaching what he was searching for.

He slipped under the elastic waist band of Nagito’s boxers, gripping the straining member hidden under there. Nagito moaned into his mouth and clutched his bunched shirt with two hands. 

He broke the kiss, Hajime letting him this time, too busy stroking and squeezing to stop him. Nagito panted against his cheek, glancing down. “I...I thought…”

“I’ll feel bad leaving you like this,” Hajime whispered, teasing the head and tearing a whimper from Nagito. He kissed the corner of his mouth before recapturing those parted lips. Nagito keened as he worked him, pulling Hajime as close as possible, holding on for dear life. 

Nagito came within the minute, crying into Hajime’s mouth. 

Warmth spilled onto his hand, and he kept pumping, coaxing all of it out. “It’s…” Nagito ended the kiss in favor of curling up and placing his forehead against Hajime’s chest. “It’s t-too little, too…” 

Not wanting to take it too far, he let go of his weeping dick, retracting his hand and finding it covered with cum. Hajime spread his fingers apart, dangling strings of discharge connecting them, and Nagito muttered, “You...d-did have to…”

“I wanted to.” Hajime examined his hand for another moment, nothing but Nagito’s heavy breathing echoing around the room, until he realized that he should clean themselves up before it dried. He really didn’t want to deal with questions, especially not from Mikan. 

He sat up, and Nagito made a noise in complaint. “I’ll be back," he soothed. "I’m getting something to help with the mess.”

"O-Oh.” Nagito didn’t keep him from scooting over and standing off the bed, simply snuggling more into the pillow. “Okay.”

Hajime was tempted to return to his side, drape an arm over him and card fingers through his hair, but no one liked sleeping in their own mess, not even Nagito. He’d clean him up at least, and well, he might be able to stay until it was time to video chat. 

After an awkward one-handed struggle to pull up his underwear and pants, Hajime walked toward the door, recalling that there was a bathroom close by. He would run there, run back, and hope to whoever’s listening that Fuyuhiko hadn’t shown up early for some reason. The plan repeated itself in his mind as he shuffled over to the door. Before he opened it, Hajime peered over his shoulder to find Nagito fast asleep, all of his troubles erased from his peaceful face. He had to be completely worn out. 

Hajime still needed to work on his restraint, it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: having fun in the Funhouse!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the funhouse chapter!

Hajime couldn’t sleep.

Between being forced into some seizure-inducing funhouse, trying to find their way out of the place, and being threatened with starvation unless someone _kills_ someone else, Hajime’s brain was too wired and stressed to even think about rest and relaxation. 

He’d tossed and turned in his bed for about an hour, not that he could really tell. Time didn’t really exist in this fruit-themed prison. It didn’t help that his stomach was busy digesting itself, and it...it was too _quiet._

Back in his cottage on the main island, he was close enough to the ocean to hear waves crashing on the shore, rhythmic and soothing. No matter how stressful, tiring, or panic inducing a day was, the sounds of the calm sea were still there, helping to wash any anxiety or stress from his mind. Temporarily, at least.

Here in this funhouse, it was dead _silent_ , and Hajime couldn’t endure it.

So, that’s why he was currently standing in Strawberry House, staring at a closed door with heavy eyes. With a sigh, Hajime lifted a hand softly knocked on the door, hoping that no one else on the hall had heard. He waited a moment, wondering if the sound would even travel into the room since it _was_ soundproof, before the door cracked open.

“Hajime?” Nagito was rubbing an eye, his other one hazy as he looked Hajime over, barely awake enough to register anything. It was safe to say that Nagito wasn’t bothered much by this strange situation, but Hajime couldn’t say that he was surprised. Nagito covered his mouth as he yawned, opening the door a bit more. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” Hajime asked. Even though they were whispering, he wanted to keep the chances of someone hearing or seeing them to a minimum. He wasn’t in the mood for questions right now.

The answer was immediate. “Of course!” Nagito stepped aside, and Hajime entered. He looked around the garish room and cringed, forgetting about how colorful and _busy_ the deluxe rooms were. They were more of an eye sore than the rest of the funhouse, and that’s saying a lot. 

Nagito closed the door behind him and locked it. “Is there something wrong, Hajime?” Hajime peered over his shoulder at him, taking in his wild bed head, wrinkled shirt almost hanging off his shoulder, and his loose plaid boxers. None of this was a surprise to him, for he and Nagito had slept together before. In a very literal sense.

After the hospital, Hajime had gone over to Nagito’s cottage once or twice, and vice versa. It had been nothing but lingering kisses and wandering hands, but it was enough. More than enough, actually, especially since Hajime had been wanting for so long. Waking up in the mornings with Nagito in his arms was great too.

It was almost funny how Nagito hadn’t changed at all, but he’d become more bearable to be around because of how Hajime simply _listened._ Over their time spent together, he’d learned that not all of what Nagito said was insane nonsense. Granted, some things would still go over Hajime’s head, but now his words weren’t a complete enigma anymore. All Hajime had to do was listen, read in between the lines, and well, it helped knowing about Nagito’s past along with how his talent basically messed it all up.

Nagito had been given a healthy inheritance, but both of his parents had to die first; he had won the lottery only after getting kidnapped; and he got accepted into Hope’s Peak, but…

Nagito hadn’t told him what the ‘but’ was yet; however, Hajime knew it was there. Everything was a give and take. A cycle of good and bad luck. 

And hope was the same way. The worse the luck, something just as great would come to even it out. The greater the despair, and brighter the hope that came afterwards.

When Nagito explained that to him and explained why he wanted to start the killings, Hajime understood. Everything about it was still terrible and horribly fucked up, but at least there was a sound _reasoning_ for it. Nagito wasn’t completely unhinged. 

He just needed someone to understand him, that’s all.

Back to the present, Hajime ran a hand through his own mussed hair. “Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered over the sound of his complaining stomach before looking over to the bed tucked in the corner. “Can I…?”

“You never have to ask, Hajime,” Nagito said with a lazy smile that never failed to cause a bit of warmth to bubble inside him. 

Hajime toed off his shoes and shimmied out of his pants, collapsing onto the bed a few seconds later. He laid face-first in Nagito’s pillow, recognizing his subtle scent - a mix between lavender and sea breeze - and feeling the lingering warmth. 

There was a breathy giggle. “I would sleep on the floor if you want me to, but I’d rather not.”

Hajime smiled against the pillow before rolling onto his side, enjoying the soft and comfortable mattress. Another perk of winning rock-paper-scissors that he missed out on. His head was on the edge of the pillow so that Nagito would have more than enough room, but Nagito bypassed it completely when he climbed into the bed. 

He curled up against Hajime’s chest like a content cat. Hajime exhaled deeply before wrapping an arm around Nagito and bringing him closer, chin resting on top of a head of wispy hairs. He began to relax, the even breaths fanning against his collarbone leagues better than the smothering silence.

A few minutes ticked by as Hajime forced himself to forget about everything for long enough just to drift off. Lazily drawing circles into Nagito’s back, he nuzzled his cheek into the lucky student’s hair and closed his eyes, hoping that this would be enough to let go. To forget about the danger here, to forget about their many friends that have died, to forget there was a chance that this could be the last night they had together-

“You’re still awake.” Nagito’s quiet voice ripped him from his spiraling thoughts. He sounded on the brink of unconsciousness as well, fighting to stay aware. There was a shift, and Hajime felt gentle fingers run up and down his side, crinkling his shirt. “Why can’t you go to sleep?”

Hajime sighed, hand stalling. “It‘s...nothing. Everything.” His stomach angrily gurgled, and Nagito’s hand came to a rest in his hip. Hajime ignored the dull pain and said, “But, go back to sleep.” There was nothing Nagito could do about it, and complaining wouldn’t make their problems go away. “I’ll be asleep too soon enough.”

“I can’t go to sleep knowing that you might be up all night.” Nagito shook his head before leaning back to look Hajime in the eye. Their noses were almost touching. “Want me to help?”

“What are you going to do?” Hajime snorted when a thought suddenly sprung up. Nagito’s eyes flickered downwards when he grinned. “Sing me a lullaby?”

Nagito hummed, and they were so close that Hajime could feel the rumble in his chest. “I don’t want you to hear my singing voice just yet. Might scare you off.” Before Hajime could reassure him that at _this_ point, it was going to take a lot more than a terrible singing voice to scare him off, Nagito leaned forward and wiped all thoughts from his mind. 

Nagito’s lips brushed his own, slowly caressing them and giving Hajime time to reciprocate. However, before he could really get into it, Nagito moved his hand to Hajime’s chest and slightly pushed. Hajime resisted the urge to chase after him when Nagito ended the kiss, voice low and raspy when he said, “I have a better idea, if you’d let me.”

Hajime already had a good idea what it was. He slid his hand up Nagito’s back, fingers weaving through the hairs of his nape. The promise of sleep was slipping away at this point, but Hajime didn’t think he cared. “What do you have in mind?”

Hajime then blinked in surprise when Nagito pushed harder, sending him flat on his back. He looked up in confusion when Nagito climbed on top of him, thighs straddling his hips. That confusion was _very_ quickly pushed away when he focused on Nagito’s eyes, any hints of sleep gone like they hadn’t ever been there. Even in the low light, he saw the intensity and felt a shiver run down his back. 

Hajime moved his hands to Nagito’s thighs, slipping underneath the boxers and digging his fingers in. “I have a feeling that I’m going to like the surprise,” he muttered, watching in appreciation as Nagito slowly took off his shirt. Lean muscles ripped under pale skin, and he could still see the remains of hickeys peppering Nagito’s body from their previous nights together, before they were thrown in this hellhole. 

Nagito flung his shirt in a random direction before leaning down, propping himself up on his arms on either side of Hajime’s head. Hajime’s fingers trembled, wanting to pull Nagito down so their bodies could touch again. They were so close that he could feel Nagito's body heat. 

“My eyes are up here.” Hajime shifted his attention from Nagito’s chest - pliant muscle he wanted to feel, to bite into - and looked into Nagito’s teasing gaze. He chuckled, lowering even more so their noses bumped together. “I would love to give you a taste, but not tonight. I want to exhaust you.”

“Exhaust me?” Hajime repeated, his fading mind snapping back to focus for a moment. 

A smile slowly grew. “I can’t have you tired tomorrow because you couldn’t get any rest. No Ultimate can do their best in that condition.” Hajime almost rolled his eyes at that statement, but then Nagito moved to kiss the corner of his mouth, skin tingling at the touch. A hushed whisper came next. “I’m going to ride you.”

A lightning bolt of arousal shot straight for his waking dick, Hajime barely managing at keeping a moan at bay. He fought for his brain to stay online as Nagito dragged his lips down his chin to his neck, leaving languid kisses. “H-Huh?” Hajime stuttered out while Nagito shifted his weight, sucking on Hajime’s collarbone and working to unbutton his shirt. “Now? Here? But…”

Nagito detached from his skin and stilled in the middle of freeing a button. He lifted his head, tilting it. “You don’t want to?”

Hajime heard the confusion in his tone, but also some concern and a tiny hint of hurt and he _didn’t_ want Nagito to get the wrong idea. “I do!” He leaned forward to peck Nagito on the lips. “I do, trust me. It’s just…” He looked around. “...having sex in a demented funhouse isn’t really…”

All of the negatively vanished, and Nagito quietly laughed. “It’s not exactly my first choice either. I’ve pictured our cottages, the beach, even the library.” 

Hajime felt a blush burn his cheeks. “Where anyone could see us?!”

“Isn’t that part of the fun?” Nagito easily replied, eyes crinkling. Hajime had never really thought about it, but…“Anyway, forget about this place and just focus on me, okay?” Finishing with the last button, Nagito splayed a hand across Hajime’s chest, and Hajime tugged Nagito’s boxers down low enough to squeeze his ass. Nagito pressed back against the touch, voice lowering. “And well, think about it like this. The room is soundproof, so we can be as loud as we’d like.”

“I guess that is one good thing about - _ah!_ ” A deep moan escaped Hajime’s throat when Nagito grinded their hips together without any warning, lighting his nerves on fire. The thin barrier created by their boxers did nothing to dampen the feeling. The pressure, the heat, the friction…

“See?” A blissful fog drifted into Hajime’s mind when Nagito laid on top of him, skin sliding against skin as he continued to rub his clothed dick against Hajime’s. Hajime helped him thrust, rocking him back and forth with the grip on his ass. Nagito’s harsh breathing was by his ear now, the moans sounding so close and broken. Hajime released something inhuman when Nagito ground down hard and slow, the dirty drag near _maddening._ Nagito giggled, it resounding in his core, “No one but me will be able to hear the sounds you make…”

Suddenly, Hajime was too hot, and the clothes he was wearing felt too constricting. 

“B-Boxers,” he panted out, hands pawing at the elastic of Nagito’s underwear. 

Nagito simply hummed against Hajime’s collarbone, lifting his hips. Hajime already missed the contact when Nagito sat up and reached back to slide out of his boxers. While he did so, Hajime quickly discarded his opened shirt and lifted his own hips. “Mine too,” he told Nagito, eyes drifting down to a swollen dick surrounded by white curls that he’d already gotten familiar with.

Nagito licked his lips as he did so with no hesitation. Hajime’s boxers were thrown away into the darkness, and Nagito was instantly back on him. Hajime hissed when he thrusted up, pleasure blossoming from his cock and spreading throughout his body. It felt amazing, but-

Hajime wiggled a hand between their bodies and gripped both of their dicks, giving them a deliberate squeeze. Nagito cried out his name before Hajime grasped his chin and guided their lips together. He didn’t waste a second in shoving his tongue into Nagito’s mouth, tasting everything he had to offer. He licked everywhere; teeth, gums, roof of the mouth until he met with Nagito’s eager tongue, intertwining with one another. 

Hajime swallowed the lucky student’s blissful sounds while providing his own, hand pumping them up and down like his life depended on it. The leakage from their cocks made the tugging glide all the better. Nagito was melting against him, whimpering as he thrusted into his hand. 

A moan escaped Nagito at a particularly harsh squeeze, and he ended their kiss to Hajime’s disdain. A stand of saliva connected their glistening lips, but all Hajime could focus on were lust-blown pupils, pink dusted cheeks, and a sopping tongue that was peaking out, ready to be tasted again. 

Hajime would love to, but Nagito did promise him something earlier and Nagito - both of them, actually - were probably going to finish soon if this kept up. 

It turned out that Nagito was reading his mind. “You feel so _good_ , Hajime.” Nagito smiled before reaching down between them, wrapping a hand around Hajime’s wrist. Hajime felt resistance and thought for a split second about continuing the handjob anyway, but he stopped pumping, fingers remaining positioned around their leaking cocks. 

“But…” Nagito pulled at his wrist, and Hajime let go, heart pounding in his chest even though this would only lead to one destination. “You would feel so much better _here_.” He shifted forward on his knees until he was straddling Hajime’s torso, Hajime only an inch or two away from being able to lick one of those pink nubs. 

However, his attention was somewhere _way_ lower when he hand was guided under Nagito’s dick, below his swollen balls, against the cleft of his ass, then-

Hajime didn’t hesitate in tracing the of tight muscle Nagito led him to with a slick finger, and Nagito hummed in appreciation, almost sounding like a purr. He arched his back somewhat and looked down at Hajime like he was the only thing that mattered. “Get me ready, Hajime…”

“Nagito…” Hajime’s voice was lower than usual, gruffer, but he didn’t care. He placed his free hand back on Nagito’s right thigh as he pressed harder with his finger, itching to breach the place only he was allowed. Wait, or did he already have experience with this? Hajime watched Nagito’s face closely. “Have you done this before?”

“Not with another person,” Nagito muttered, and Hajime’s mind eased. Nagito was his and his only. Like he had read his thoughts, Nagito smiled and cradled his cheek, the touch fleeting. “No one had pursued trash like me in the past. But, I have...hng…” Nagito pressed back, and Hajime slid in to his first knuckle. The heat was already incredible, the muscle clenching around him. Nagito finished the sentence a second later. “...experimented back there.”

The meaning of those words went straight to his groin. “Experimented? With…?”

The look in Nagito’s eyes was dangerous, a different kind of dangerous Hajime was used to. “I’ll leave that to your imagination, Hajime.”

Many _many_ images flashed in Hajime’s mind, picturing Nagito getting off with his fingers or even _other_ things, in different positions with sweat glistening in his forehead and moaning unabashedly on a bed, in the shower, against a wall…

Fueled by lust, Hajime gently pushed the rest of his finger inside Nagito, the heat all-encompassing. However, he instantly felt guilty when he heard Nagito whimper, muscles tensing. “Sorry! I should’ve asked - are you okay?”

“You don’t have to ask,” Nagito said with a tight voice and a smile that was a bit off. “Do what you want and I’ll adjust-“

Hajime hardened his tone because now wasn’t the time for that. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. “I’m not going to do _anything_ until you tell me you’re alright.”

“I…” Nagito stared at Hajime before taking a deep breath, and he could feel the muscles that had clamped down on his finger loosen up. Nagito then exhaled shakily, hints of a laugh coming out with it. “It feels better now. Thank you, Hajime.”

“You don’t have to thank me for caring about you, y’know,” he argued, but his words lost their bite when Nagito’s thumb traced his jawbone, touch feather-light. 

Nagito simply hummed in response, following the movement with his eyes, before meeting Hajime’s gaze once more. “You can move now,” he whispered. 

Hajime wanted to ask if he was sure, but Nagito rocked back again, as if trying to take his finger deeper, and that was all the answer he needed. He never took his eyes off Nagito’s face as he slid his digit out of his tight heat, rubbing the ring of muscle once more, before pushing back inside. 

Nagito mewled in the back of his throat, eyelashes fluttering, and it was such a mesmerizing sight that Hajime had to do it again. And again, and _again._

Nagito started to breathe heavier, body rocking and back arching. “So good…” he praised, words tapering off into a moan when Hajime curled his finger, hitting a particular spot inside of him. “There, Hajime! I-I knew you would find - _haaaaa…”_

Hajime swallowed thickly as Nagito began to lose himself to pleasure, imagining what it would feel like to replace his finger with his reglected dick, how Nagito would respond taking it, sucking him in-

“Add another one,” Nagito breathed out, licking puffy lips and giving a lopsided grin. “You’ll never fit inside if you don’t stretch me out, Hajime.” Nagito reached around his back and blindly grabbed Hajime’s swollen member, causing him to groan and buck his hips. “One finger isn’t enough…”

“Okay,” Hajime rasped, feeling warm fingers glide up and down his shaft, coating it with his own pre. “Okay,” he repeated and pressed a second finger inside, going slowly since Nagito locked up again. “R-Relax for me, Nagito.”

Nagito’s chest was heaving at this point, but he was still pumping Hajime slowly and steadily, gradually stealing the air from his lungs. Nagito eventually nodded with his eyes closed. It took a moment, but finally the vice-like grip on his fingers relaxed, if only marginally. 

Nagito then opened his hooded eyes, staring right at him. “Go ahead…” 

Hajime reacted immediately. He slid his fingers out before thrusting them back in, the slight resistance making his cock twitch under Nagito’s hold. A sharp cry tumbled out of the lucky student’s mouth followed by a low whimper when Hajime buried himself as far as he could, curling and scissoring and watching Nagito fall apart. 

This went on for a while, but like before, Nagito cut it short. “I-If we keep going like this, I’m going to cum just by your fingers.” He let go of Hajime’s arousal, instead grabbing the hand halfway buried in his ass. Hajime let him take him out, already missing the heat. There was a raspy chuckle, and Nagito sat all the way up, resting his hands on Hajime’s chest. He circled a nipple with a finger, staining it with white, and Hajime hissed at the jolt of pleasure. “Not that is a bad thing, but…”

“Y...You have a promise to keep,” Hajime finished his sentence, placing both of his hands on narrow hips, already knowing that he was going to have to hang on for this ride. Pulse racing, he gently rubbed up his sides and back down again. “Did I do enough?”

“Mmm…” Nagito smiled at him as he slid backwards, lifting his hips. Hajime’s breath caught in his throat when Nagito reached down to pump his cock once, twice, three times before lining it up to his stretched hole. “More than enough.”

Then he eased himself down. Hajime’s mouth fell open when his tip spread that ring of muscle, the heat and _pressure_ making his head spin. His grip on pale hips tightened as Nagito lowered himself more and more, sucking him in inch by inch. A loud moan tore itself out of them both when Nagito was finally fully seated. 

Nagito was panting harshly, hands back in Hajime’s chest and nails scraping against skin. “It’s... _mmmm_...better than I ever imagined…” He dropped his unfocused gaze to Hajime, who was barely keeping himself from thrusting into that insanely tight heat. “Ha...Hajime…”

“I haven’t-“ Hajime was surprised that he could still talk, euphoria weighing down his tongue. “-done anything y-yet.”

Nagito chuckled, muscles contracting as he lifted himself up, Hajime slipping halfway out of him. The friction made his toes curl. “You’re right.”

He slammed back down, and again, their cries were synchronized. Hajime threw his head back against the pillow, all of the blood in his veins being set on _fire. “_ Na - Na - _Nagito!”_ It felt like someone punched him in the lungs every time Nagito sunk down, his pace steadily growing faster until he was bouncing up and down, nails leaving half-moons in Hajime’s chest.

Hajime couldn’t feel that, only the unadulterated _rapture_ that originated in his dick, pulsing throughout his body in crashing waves. Nagito had to feel the same way, for he was chanting Hajime’s name like it was a personal mantra. His cock was bouncing as well, leaking all over Hajime’s stomach. 

Hajime watched it drip, drip, drip until he focused on Nagito’s face. Sweat plastered white hairs on his forehead, his eyes were closed tight, and drool ran down the side of his mouth. His mumbles were incomprehensible now, nothing but sweet nothings as he impaled himself on Hajime. 

Craving even _more_ , Hajime thrusted up into Nagito when he came down, and the feral noise that filled the room was music to Hajime’s ears. So, he started a rhythm that made Nagito keen, and nonstop groans slipped out of his own mouth now, his body too stimulated to stop them. 

Hajime stared up at Nagito, the boy who was a bit too obsessed with hope, the boy who had grabbed his attention the first time they met, the boy who was a complete mess while riding his dick, and couldn’t help but to stutter, “Y-You’re beautiful, Nagito.”

It took awhile for Nagito to respond, cracking open his eyes and giving him a lopsided smile. He slammed down again, Hajime feeling his orgasm crawling closer, before leaning down and crashing his lips against Hajime’s.

Their tongues wasted no time in messily dancing with each other, saliva mixing and dripping as Nagito switched up tactics, going for a slow dirty grind that blanked Hajime’s mind. All he could do was _feel._ Tongues clashed together, one of Nagito’s hands had a death grip on his shoulder, and every nerve in his dick was electrified. This was...Th-This was…

His orgasm crashed into him like a runaway train.

Hajime screamed into Nagito’s mouth as Nagito sucked him all the way in one last time, coming inside him spurt after spurt. Nagito continued to fucked himself on his cock, milking him and the oversensitivity almost made it uncomfortable, but then Nagito came too. Lines of white shot all over Hajime’s stomach and chest. A needy rumbling whine reached his ears when Nagito pulled back, tucking his head into Hajime’s neck and collapsing. 

Hajime didn’t mind the weight, it more comforting than anything. He heaved to catch his breath, staring up at the darkened ceiling and weaving fingers into Nagito’s hair. “That was...incredible…”

“Amazing as always…” Nagito murmured against his skin. He shifted to the side, and Hajime slid out of him, cold air hitting his weeping member. Nagito leisurely traced random shapes against his stomach. 

Hajime wrapped an arm around his waist. Heart rate steadily dropping back to normal and eyelids drooping at the same rate, he muttered, “We...probably need to clean up.”

“Later.” Nagito sighed against his neck. “You’re supposed to go to sleep, Hajime. Did you forget?”

Hajime shook his head, stifling a yawn. “No, but if we don’t do it now, then in the morning the others-“

Nagito nosed his jawline and drawled, “Sleep. I’ll figure something out. Ultimate Luck, remember?”

How could Hajime forget? He wanted to argue more, but sleep was dragging him into its persuasive hold. 

The last thing he felt was a chaste kiss on his cheek before he fell into dreamland.

* * *

That was their only night of happiness. 

Any overnight stays were out of the question when Monokuma incorporated his dumb tai chi sessions first thing in the mornings. That night, they did get lucky in that Nagito got them cleaned and presentable before everyone else got up. Hajime made it back to his room in Grape House without any mishaps or any troublesome questions. 

With the sessions, Hajime didn’t trust Nagito’s luck to wake them up early enough to avoid suspicion. So, as days painfully ticked by, all they could accomplish were fleeting kisses whenever they were alone, which wasn’t often.

It was a good enough distraction from their situation though...until disaster struck.

* * *

_“_...jime...Hajime!”

Hajime startled at the sound of his name, head springing up from its place buried in his folded arms. “Huh?” He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the nauseating bright green light dancing on the walls. Reluctantly slipping out the grasp of sleep, he focused on Chiaki, who was sitting across the small table from him with a frown on her face. “What is it? Did Kazuichi fix the elevator?”

She shook her head, fiddling with the zipper on her jacket. “Not yet, but it’s been two hours. We should try calling them, I think.”

Hajime let out a long-winded sigh. Not because of Chiaki’s words, but because of their whole situation. Nekamaru had died in grape tower that morning, his mechanical body dented and ripped apart, and Hajime was harshly reminded that they were still playing this cruel game. A game of life and death. 

And Hajime didn’t have a clue who did it. How could he? Everyone had been acting so normal and _friendly_ locked in this funhouse. Sure, hunger had been an issue, but there was no animosity, especially not toward Nekamaru who they had _just_ gotten back. 

To make things worse, they were all separated. He and the girls were in Grape House while the rest of the guys were stuck in Strawberry due to the elevator connecting them being broken. He couldn’t investigate thoroughly like he wanted because of that, and being separated from Nagito made him feel...uneasy. Maybe it was just his hunger and exhaustion talking, but it just didn’t feel right. 

Hajime sighed again, getting out of his own head and nodding at Chiaki. “Yeah, we can call to check up on them again.” He stood up and looked over at the phone. “They could tell us how long - _gah!”_ His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he realized that they suddenly weren’t the only two in the common room. “Nagito?!”

Said boy was standing by the wall that was farthest from the entrance, and many emotions - shock, confusion, happiness - swirled within Hajime until one overpowered the others. And that emotion was concern because Nagito looked _pissed._

“Nagito?” Hajime repeated, taking a step towards him. “What’s wrong?”

“How did you get over here?” Chiaki asked as she stood as well.

Nagito didn’t answer either of them, eyes never straying from Hajime, and he froze at the amount of anger aimed at him. Something was seriously wrong. The only other time he’d seen Nagito this angry was in Mikan’s class trail, but even then, the intensity here was almost scary. Like...Nagito was a completely different person. 

“Nagito?” Hajime repeated, more cautious now. “What happened?”

“I learned the truth,” Nagito said, and Hajime felt a chilled shiver run down his spine. Nagito’s voice was so cold, lifeless. The lucky student strode towards him. “I’ve learned the truth about you, Hajime Hinata.”

Hajime remained frozen as the distance between them disappeared. “Truth...about me?”

“I’m not going to repeat myself to you.” Nagito stopped right in front of him, nearly chest to chest, and forceful finger lifted his chin so he had no choice but to look him in the eye. Their height difference was only an inch, but Hajime had never felt smaller than he did now as Nagito looked down at him. Steely eyes met his, but there was something else lurking deep within them. Something more subdued. “I can’t believe this.”

Hajime didn’t understand. Had _he_ done something? “Believe - _mmph!”_

He was cut off when Nagito pressed soft lips against his, and Hajime was all too aware of Chiaki standing in the room. She was looking at them with wide eyes, stunned into silence. Hajime was too shocked to do anything, letting Nagito kiss him until he pulled away. 

Nagito glared at him, jaw clenched, before shaking his head. “Too good,” he muttered, and was that a hint of frustration in his voice? “I was stupid to think it would last. The cycle wouldn’t break just because of you.”

Hajime’s mind was reeling, trying and failing to process any of this. “Nagito, _explain_ to me what’s going on!” He held the hand touching his chin for a second before Nagito snatched it away from him. A bullet shot through his heart, and his voice weakened. “What did I…?”

“You’re a Reserve Course student,” Nagito curtly said without any warning, words cutting through him like a knife. “You have no Ultimate talent.”

Hajime felt like he couldn’t breathe. “...What?”

“Read it in a file Monokuma gave me after completing the final dead room.” Nagito didn’t pull any punches, voice monotone. “But we don’t have time to talk about that. I have an investigation to complete.” He started to walk past Hajime.

Hajime shot out a hand, tightly gripping Nagito’s jacket sleeve. His heart was in his throat, choking him. But he managed to face Nagito and ask, “What are you doing?”

Nagito tugged his arm, but he didn’t let go. “I’m _trying_ to leave.”

“No,” Hajime swallowed thickly. “You know what I’m asking.” It was his turn to get angry, glaring to smother his hurt. “Why are you acting like this? Did you only like me because I was an Ultimate? Why does me not being one _matter?”_

Nagito just looked at him, expression stony. Hajime already missed his smile. “It matters to you, doesn’t it? Or else you wouldn’t be getting so emotional.” Hajime had nothing to say to that. He couldn’t pretend that the information hadn’t taken hold of his lungs and _squeezed._ Nagito then turned his head away. “As for me, well, I thought you would understand. Turns out I was wrong.”

“Understand?” Hajime was careful not to yell too loudly to attract unwanted attention. It was bad enough that Chiaki was seeing this. “I’m the only one here who _fucking_ understands you, Nagito!”

Nagito glanced at him again, and through the many layers of anger and frustration, Hajime could see the sadness...the despair. His breath hitched when Nagito whispered, “And that’s the worst part, isn’t it?” Then he chuckled hollowly, tilting his head. The smile he wore held cracks. “Now, let me go, Hajime. You don’t want Monokuma to call time before we’re done, right?”

They stared at each other, and the air was heavy around them, near suffocating. The smile did nothing to hide the sharp heat in Nagito’s eyes. Hajime wanted to say something, anything, but his tongue refused to work. He let go of the jacket.

Nagito left without another word. 

Chiaki was calling Hajime’s name as he stared at the exit of the room, but her voice was nothing but a soft echo in his mind. He couldn’t answer her; he was desperately trying to understand. Trying to understand why he didn’t have a talent, why Nagito had walked away like they were nothing, why his life had turned into a horrifying train wreck...why... _why._

He would find out soon enough. 

After the trial came and went, after sprinklers calmed the fire and cleared all of the smoke, after his heart had been shattered into jagged pieces and stomped on mercilessly, and after the smothering fog of lies had been lifted, leaving him gasping through a throat that had been screamed raw…

...Hajime finally understood why. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, looks like I added a little angst there. Well, it's plot!angst, so it's kinda expected. I've decided to add one more chapter, which is the epilogue when they're all out of the simulation! And...let's just say that a little Naegi may or may not make a special appearance...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for disproportionately large chapters! I decided to go out with a bang, so here you go! Enjoy the epilogue!

Visiting Jabberwock island after everything cooled down was a mental challenge. It wasn’t that Class 77 was a hassle to be around, not at all. Even in recovery, they were, well, themselves. They greeted him with smiles every time he docked, and he returned them because at this point, they were his friends. The problem definitely wasn’t them.

He just...had to make sure he controlled himself, that’s all. Keep his restraint in check. 

Makoto kept telling himself that over and over again as he left Hotel Mirai, waving over his shoulder at Sonia and Mikan. On his visits to the island, he checked up on everyone to see how they were doing, if there was a short supply of something, asking questions like that to make sure they were comfortable here. Because...he wasn’t sure when they could be cleared to be released back into the recovering world outside. He felt like they were his responsibility, and he’d drown in guilt if eager fingers of despair wrapped around them once again. He refused to let that happen, after all that they’ve been through. 

He’d spoken to mostly every once since he’d arrived earlier that morning...except two people because he always had to prepare himself first. 

Makoto closed the door behind him with a steadying breath, feeling his nerves flare up. He shouldn’t even be feeling this way. It’s been nearly a month since everyone had woken up, and the images should have faded from his mind, but…

Makoto shook his head, refusing to think about it, as he walked down the steps and around the crystal clear pool. He made sure to walk on the side opposite of where Peko and Fuyuhiko were sunbathing, not wanting to interrupt their peace again. He traveled past the cottages, smiling at Ibuki as she skipped by him, and made his way toward the beach, where Sonia said Hajime and Nagito should be right now. 

He hummed a tune to himself to keep his brain occupied as he walked down the trail. Warm sunlight hugged his skin, cool breezes rustled his shaggy hair, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful ocean as it came into view. 

Well, that was until he spotted the two he was looking for. 

Makoto slowed to a stop as he looked on, out of sight of them. Nagito and Hajime were sitting near the edge of the beach, where many beach chairs were lined up ready for use. Nagito occupied one while Hajime sat on a beach towel in front of him, both shaded beneath a colorful umbrella. Hajime was busy reading a book while Nagito combed with his lengthy hair with a smile. 

Makoto couldn’t help but to smile as well at the sight because they deserved this. Nevermind the Tragedy, what happened in the program had been devastating as well, and Makoto just had been the one watching. He couldn’t imagine how any of the participants, especially Hajime and Nagito, felt at the time. There had been devastation, tears, rage, and...and heartbreak.

He remembered the first few days after the survivors of the game escaped. Hajime had immediately wanted to do anything to help his sleeping friends, fighting through the pain and suffering they had gone through, but Makoto saw the hurt every time he looked at Nagito’s pod. He saw the frustration and unshed tears whenever the mechanical hand was being stubborn on a particular day. He saw the moment his heart crumbled when Nagito finally woke up, speaking to Hajime like they hadn’t...were _never_ …

Makoto took a deep breath to calm himself. He knew that he shouldn’t be the one getting emotional after all this time, but it hadn’t been _fair._ None of that was supposed to happen. No one deserved it. It didn’t matter who the person was.

And Makoto had to keep telling Hajime that as he coped. He had been there to comfort him, telling him that Nagito would come back around. He needed time, they all needed time, to think and process the situation. Makoto had been there for everyone of course, but he always sought Hajime out each day to be a shoulder to lean on. 

And that went for Nagito, as well. 

He had always lit up whenever Makoto came to talk to him, smiles wide and eyes crinkled. They would talk, but it was never about anything substantial. Nagito would always bring up how amazing he was at stopping Junko, and Makoto would almost always change to subject to something else, like the weather, his friends, or how he was adjusting to his new hand. Nagito never questioned it, going with the flow of conversation. Neither he or Makoto mentioned Hajime, but sometimes Nagito would stare at the metallic fingers a bit too long as he spoke. Makoto knew he was somewhere else in his head. 

“You should really talk to him,” Makoto had said one day. He and Nagito were in the library, Nagito talking about one of the mystery novels he’d read. 

Nagito paused mid-sentence, looking at him like he’d seen him for the first time. Makoto held his gaze, which had gone a little cloudy, until Nagito glanced down to the book in his hands. A metallic finger had accidentally torn some of a page. “I know,” he eventually replied, any excitement in his voice completely gone. He then held Makoto’s gaze again. “Sorry that you’ve been worried about us. You have so much in your hands, so I know it’s a bother-“

“It’s not, really!” Makoto shook his head, giving a reassuring smile. “You all are my friends. I want to help however I can. And…” He bit his lip, being the one to look away. “You two had been so close, you know? In the program...and if I hadn’t somehow screwed everything up, then-“

“No!” Suddenly, Nagito had been in his face, hands grabbing his shoulders. He blinked in shock while Nagito frowned. “Don’t you _ever_ blame yourself for this, Makoto. You saved us. You stopped Junko. You aren’t the reason things happened the way they did, it was _us._ Not you. You are an amazing person, and I won’t let you put down yourself like that. You’re _amazing.”_

Then, Nagito had pulled him in for a hug, and Makoto hadn’t realized a tear had fallen until Nagito ended the embrace. The smile Nagito had given him afterwards was genuine as he wiped his cheek with a warm thumb, and Makoto had felt something twist within him. 

The next time that Makoto visited, Hajime and Nagito approached him at the same time. They weren’t hand-in-hand or anything, but the fact that they were _together_ was an improvement in itself. Two bright smiles were aimed at Makoto that day, and that feeling came back. Something that wasn’t supposed to be swirling in his gut, not pleasant or harmful but simply _there_.

He hadn't realized what it had been until he had walked in on Hajime and Nagito kissing one day in the hotel, and at that second, every single private moment those two had shared in the program crashed into Makoto’s mind. 

And they had never left. 

So now as Makoto rolled up his long pant legs and toed off his shoes and socks, he fought those memories with every speck of willpower he had. He refused to let them find out. They were happy, and Makoto had already done his job. He couldn’t get in between them. Not after they just found peace again. 

Makoto would have to get over his attractions and move on. He could do it. He had to. 

Taking another steadying breath, Makoto smiled and started to wave, jogging over to those two. “Hey, guys!”

Nagito paused in his combing, looking over and smiling as bright as the sun. “Hi, Makoto! Welcome back!”

Hajime glanced up from his book. His smile wasn’t as wide, but he made something bubble inside Makoto nonetheless. When he got closer, Hajime eyed his suit before saying, “They really don’t care if you died from heat stroke out here, huh?”

Makoto sheepishly chuckled as he ducked under the tall umbrella, rubbing the back of his sweaty neck. “Maybe when I get off probationary status, they’ll allow me to wear shorts and a t-shirt…”

Nagito frowned. “How much longer until it’s up?”

Makoto sighed, hating thinking about it. “Another six months...to a year…” Both of them were frowning at this point, and Makoto wanted to lighten the mood again. “It’s not that bad, though! Just a little more work and supervision, that’s all!”

“That’s all?” Hajime still wasn’t happy. “Sounds like you don’t have any time for yourself.”

Makoto couldn’t argue that. There were times where he’d go home exhausted only to wake up still tired the next day. “Well, Kyoko and Byakuya and the others help out, and-“

“The bags under your eyes tell a different story,” Hajime said, his eyes roaming his face - one a grassy green and the other an intense red. He would never not be entranced by it. “You’re being worked too hard.”

“Sounds like a day to yourself is long overdue.” Nagito continued combing through Hajime’s hair, and Makoto watched the long silky strands flow through his lithe fingers. “It’s not fair how we sit around here all day while you stress yourself out.” Nagito pondered something for a moment before suggesting with a smile, “Today can be your day! We can help you relax. How about a massage? Hajime’s got the talent for that, you know.”

Heat rose to his cheeks without consent. “A m-massage?”

Maybe his blush wasn’t dark enough to be noticeable, because Hajime nodded without missing a beat. “Yeah, anything to lift the weight off your shoulders, even just for a bit. Are you up for it?”

“I-I…” Makoto couldn’t get his words to form correctly. This was the last place where he thought this conversation would go. They wanted to give him a _massage?_ He didn’t know if this was a good idea. They were doing this as friends to help him out, but Makoto was sure that his body was going to betray him if Hajime got anywhere close to him. And was Nagito going to help out too? This _definitely_ was a bad idea. 

But, they were looking at him expectantly, and it was true that he had been pretty wound up lately…

“I...would appreciate it,” he managed to say without stuttering. His heart was thundering against his chest though, and he hoped that they wouldn’t look too closely at his flaming face. He chuckled to hide his nervousness. “It has been a while since I’ve done something for me…”

“It’s settled then!” Nagito grabbed a hair tie in his lap and used it to hastily put Hajime’s hair up in a ponytail. It was messy with a few strands still framing his face, but Makoto had to look away because it somehow accented his features even more. Hajime already had been easy on the eyes in the program, but _now-_

“We should go to my cottage,” Hajime said as he stood up, hair swaying behind him. He picked the towel off the ground and shook the sand out of it. “Normally Nagito’s is cleaner, but-”

“-we haven’t done laundry yet,” Nagito finished with a small giggle. Hajime groaned and nudged him with an elbow, and Makoto tried hard not to think about the subtext there. They probably spilled coffee somewhere in the room. That was it.

Makoto nodded, pulling at his collar a bit and hating the Future Foundation even more for their heat trapping dress code. “Th-That’s fine! Anywhere with air conditioning will do.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Hajime pinched the fabric of his sleeve between his fingers. “We need to get you out of this thing.”

Again, Makoto refused to let his mind focus too much on that statement. He chuckled once more as a response, keeping in step with them as they made their way to the cottages. They were chatting about Kazuichi’s nth attempt in getting Sonia’s attention; Makoto fought to pay attention, but he was distracted by how they kept him in the middle as they walked, sleeves occasionally brushing. They were so close. Have they ever been this close before? Casually? Makoto didn’t know, and he was beginning to sweat even more. He had to be overthinking this. Friends were always close, just look at Mahiru and Hiyoko. Wait, might not be a good example...

“Excuse the mess,” Hajime suddenly said, throwing him out of his thoughts, and Makoto found himself standing in front of his cottage, looking through an open door. Hajime and Nagito were already inside. Makoto followed them into the space, looking around even though he’d been in here once before. There were a couple soda bottles on the floor, and a few drawers were open, but it wasn’t too messy.

Makoto briefly laughed, butterflies ramming his stomach. “You should see my apartment. It’s kept halfway clean only because of my sister.”

“Ah, how is she, by the way?” Nagito asked, closing the door behind them. 

Makoto hid a flinch when the lock clicked. “She’s good,” he answered, glancing between the couch and the made-up bed. “Still adjusting, like the rest of us.”

“I hear that. It’s definitely going to take a while.” Hajime sighed, it filled with many emotions Makoto couldn’t even begin to count, before pointing at him. “But anyway, time to get you relaxed. First things first, gotta take off that suit.”

Makoto swallowed thickly. “R-Right.” He controlled his shaky fingers as he unbuttoned his suit, ignoring the eyes on him as he worked. But then Hajime busied himself with making his bed as neat as possible, and his shoulders relaxed just a little. He quickly unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie. He was about to take them off, when-

“I’ll take those!” Makoto startled when Nagito stepped closer behind him, helping him shirt off the jacket. Nagito tilted his head and smiled. “I want you doing as little work as possible right now.” Then, Nagito reached around and carefully tugged off his tie, knuckles lightly brushing his collarbone. 

“Th-Thanks,” Makoto stuttered, watching Nagito fold the jacket and place it on a small table. “Is this, um…” He refocused on Hajime, whose eyes snapped up to meet his. “Good enough?” He’d never been to a professional massage parlor, so he wasn’t sure if he needed to take his shirt off or not. 

Hajime laughed under his breath. “Yeah. Now it doesn’t look like you’re going to overheat. Might be a bit tricky with the shirt on, but I’m sure I can work through it.” He gestured to the bed. “I want to start on your back, so lay on your stomach.”

Makoto nodded, approaching the bed. “Okay…” He stopped at the edge, butterflies attacking his abdomen now, and gripped the edge of his shirt with unsure fingers. They were be friends, so this wouldn’t be weird. It wouldn’t. “I can take my shirt off, actually, if it would be easier for you…?”

Hajime shrugged, though something shifted in his eyes. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

“It’s...It’s fine.” Makoto steeled himself before peeling his shirt off in one shift motion, and Nagito was there to take it from him. Makoto kept his gaze down as he climbed into the bed, not wanting to see their reactions. It wasn’t like he was out of shape, but in front of them, he just felt...exposed. 

He folded his arms and tucked his head inside, finding comfort in the darkness. There was shifting around him, and Nagito’s voice rose, “Um, Makoto? You’re supposed to relax on the bed, not tense up.”

“Sorry!” Makoto quickly apologized, forcing himself to unwind and not act like they were about to attack him. Everything was fine. Friends doing a favor for a friend. That was all. He lifted his head and smiled back at them. “I guess I’m more strung up than I thought.”

Nagito squatted down at his side, propping an elbow on the mattress and leaning his cheek into a palm. “That’s what Hajime is going to take care of!” He grinned over at Hajime. “Aren’t you?”

Makoto furrowed his brow at his weird tone, but he didn’t have time to think about it before the mattress dipped behind him. He whipped his head back in surprise, seeing Hajime kneeling on the bed. “Wh-What?”

Hajime cracked his knuckles, explaining, “The bed’s up against the wall, so straddling you is the best way to reach both sides of your body. Is that okay?”

It suddenly got a little harder to breathe. Makoto took a stuttering breath, struggling to control the hurricane in his mind. “Yeah, i-it’s fine. You’re the professional,” he said with a quiet laugh. 

Hajime shuffled forward on his knees to straddle his hips, and Makoto forced himself to stay relaxed. He faced ahead and rested his chin on his crossed arms, waiting. 

“I’m going to start with your shoulders,” Hajime said before Makoto felt callused fingers press against the heated skin over his shoulder blades. Makoto sucked in a harsh breath at the touch, unintentionally stiffening, and Hajime drew small circles with the pads of his fingers. “Relax,” he whispered. Makoto _really_ hoped he didn’t feel the shiver that traveled down his back.

Hajime then dug in deeper while traveling upwards, targeting the muscles right below his neck, and Makoto couldn’t help but to sigh, slowly but surely melting into the mattress. Thumbs rubbed and pushed to loosen any knots there, already turning Makoto into a pile of jelly. Hajime _was_ good at this. Not that he had anything to compare him to, but still. 

Experienced hands kneaded the muscle at the base of his neck, easing a content hum out of him. He hadn’t meant to do that, but it was hard to worry about it when he was being taken care of like this. 

“Feels good?” Makoto opened his eyes - unsure when he’d actually closed them - to look over at Nagito, who was staring back with a languid smile. Honestly, he’d forgotten he had been there. 

“Definitely…” Makoto breathed out as Hajime travelled lower, pressing the heel of his palms against the taut muscles neighboring his spine. A small groan escaped from him as his body steadily became undone, and he was suddenly mortified because it had been a bit too loud in this quiet room.

However, Nagito wasn’t put off by it. He actually chuckled, low and raspy. “Hajime has magical hands, doesn’t he? He knows exactly what he’s doing.” Before Makoto could begin to respond to that, Nagito’s gaze flickered to the top of his head. “Can I touch your hair?”

Makoto slowly blinked. “Um…”

“It’s to help you relax more,” Nagito easily explained, shifting a bit in his squatting position. “Hajime will vouch for me. He loves it when I play with his hair.”

Hajime’s only response was an affirmative hum as he dragged his thumb down each notch of his spine. Makoto bit his lip to keep any unwanted noises inside when he got down to his lower back. “Yeah,” he eventually said, voice a smidge higher than usual. “You can touch it.” 

Nagito’s expression lit up at the go ahead before he stood and sat on the edge of the bed. Then, he buried a gentle hand into Makoto’s barely tamable strands. He combed his fingers through it, slightly tugging at the hairs, and muttered, “As soft as I thought it would be.”

Makoto hated how mutinous his cheeks have been as of late, feeling them warm up. “Probably not as soft as both of yours are…”

“Not quite, but I like the coarser feel. It tickles my palm.” Nagito dug his fingers deeper, raking dull nails along Makoto’s scalp. Makoto’s eyelids fluttered closed, and he leaned into the other’s touch. They were right. It did feel pretty nice. 

He soon lost himself to their touches. With Hajime molding his body like it was fresh clay and with Nagito’s fingers leaving tingles all over his head, Makoto completely relaxed, leaving his comfort in their hands. 

Until Hajime spoke- “I want to start on your legs. Do you want to take your pants off?”

Makoto’s eyes flew open at the question, and he almost choked on his spit. Nagito scratched his scalp, alternating between petting and combing, and some of Makoto’s shock simmered at the ministrations. He shouldn’t be so surprised that he asked that. People got full body massages all the time, right? That included legs too. And if it would be easier if he was pantsless… 

Getting his breathing back under control, he nodded. “I can, just…” Makoto lifted his hips and reached down to undo his belt. Once that was done, he was about to shimmy out of them, but a cold hand on his arm made him pause. 

“What did I say, Makoto?” Nagito asked, giving a closed-eye smile. “We want you to do the least amount of work possible. Help him out, would you, Hajime?”

“If he wants me to,” Hajime answered, and Makoto’s heart rate skyrocketed when talented fingers rubbed circles against his bare hips. Okay, he knew about full body massages, but he was sure that the masseuse didn’t fully undress the customer themselves. But...this was just them being nice, right? Giving him a time to be pampered? He needed to stop overthinking everything. 

And plus, it wasn’t like he was completely _against_ Hajime doing so…

“O-Okay,” he forced out, folding his arms back under his chin and withholding a wince when Hajime’s fingers ducked under his waist band. The pants came off slowly, Makoto holding his breath the whole time, only releasing when Hajime went to place them by his jacket and shirt. 

Nagito’s laugh then caught his attention. “You’re so cute, Makoto.”

Makoto sputtered, freezing up. “C...Cute?” Did he really just say that?

Nagito nodded as Hajime returned to the bed. “Mhm.” His unoccupied hand brushed against Makoto’s heated cheeks, the touch cool and smooth. “Just like a puppy I want to keep hugging.”

He...He had to be teasing him. Makoto playfully swatted his hand away, laughing through the uncertainty. “Stop...I get enough of that off the island.”

“Then it has to be true!” To Makoto’s horror, Nagito began to lean down, the hand tangled in his hair lowering to cradle his jaw. He was stunned when Nagito kissed the top of his head. “You’re adorable, Makoto,” he murmured.

Makoto’s breath caught in his throat as Nagito leaned back, giving his patented Nagito smile that always twisted something inside. He gaped like a fish before snapping his attention to Hajime. He was sitting on his haunches, just watching in amusement while Makoto was freaking out. “Y-You’re not going to say anything?”

Hajime cocked a brow at him, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Am I supposed to say something?”

Makoto swallowed thickly, wondering if _he_ was missing something here. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before asking, “Aren’t you two...together?”

Hajime smiled, but there was an undertone to it that made Makoto tense. “Yeah, we are.” He then leaned forward over Makoto’s legs and grabbed Nagito by his shirt collar. The pull that came after wasn’t harsh, but just enough for Nagito to close the distance between them. 

Makoto sucked in a harsh breath when their lips brushed together, feeling something stir in his groin at the sight. Hajime buried one of his hands into Nagito’s hair, and Nagito wrapped a hand around his neck, bringing him closer. Makoto knew that he shouldn’t be watching as their lips caressed each other, as Hajime stuck out a tongue and dove into an awaiting mouth, as both of them looked right _back_ at him, but...he couldn’t look away. 

His eyes were trained on their mouths, tongues, and teeth until Hajime eventually pulled back, licking away any leftover spittle. His gaze had darkened, pinning Makoto to the bed. “But that doesn’t mean we haven’t noticed you, Makoto.” Makoto flinched hard when a searing hand was placed on the small of his back. “We’ve seen the way you stare at us.”

“You’re not exactly subtle,” Nagito added, reaching out to pet his hair again. 

Makoto quickly moved out of his reach, scooting back on the bed until his back hit the wall. He folded his knees to his chest to hide how all of this was affecting his waking member and held out a halting hand because this was _insane._

“W-Wait!” he shouted, near breathless even though he hadn’t done anything. He had to process all of this. His mind was going into overdrive and he couldn’t think. “I…” He took a second to formulate his words, forcibly ignoring the fact that he was nearly naked in front of the objects of his affection who _might_ feel the same way. 

“You...like me?” he tentatively asked, “Both of you?”

Nagito giggled, not insulted at all by his hasty retreat, and asked rhetorically, “What gave it away?” 

Makoto raked his fingers through his hair, still in disbelief. This had to be some elaborate dream. Both of them...liked _him?_ His average build, (below) average size, and average personality? “I...can’t believe this…”

Nagito and Hajime glanced at each other for a moment, speaking with their eyes, until Hajime nodded. Nagito faced Makoto again, his expression softening. “If we kissed you, would you believe us then?”

A pool of heat settled at the base of his spine. Makoto looked back and forth between them. Hajime, a person you would mistake for a model at first glance, and Nagito, the prettiest person he had ever seen, were interested in...him. 

Guess his Ultimate talent came in handy.

Makoto couldn’t trust his voice at the moment, so he simply nodded.

Both boys visibly relaxed before they crawled closer to him, slowly like he might bolt at any second. Makoto wasn’t planning on doing that, though. He waited while his pulse raced under his skin until Hajime reached him first, gentle fingers guiding Makoto’s mouth onto his. 

Hajime’s lips were soft yet firm, slowly brushing against his and already leaving him craving more. Makoto shyly responded after making an embarrassing sound in his throat, but it ended much too soon when Hajime pulled back. However, he wasn’t pining for long because Nagito was there, his pressing yet pliant kisses sending shocks down his spine. 

He felt Nagito chuckle before he ended the kiss, giving Makoto a look that spread a blush all the way down his neck. “Very cute,” Nagito murmured.

His heart was going to explode out of his chest any time now.

“So…” Hajime settled down next to him, arms touching. “Do you believe us now?”

Makoto would be a fool not to. “Sorry I was so doubtful, but y-yeah-“

“Good!” Nagito chirped before wrapping his arms around Makoto’s waist. He yelped in surprise when Nagito rolled him over and somehow positioned Makoto into his lap. Before Makoto knew it, his back was pressed against the taller boy’s chest and laughter rumbled by his right ear. “Now let's continue your massage!”

“My m-massage?” Makoto repeated, still reeling from the abrupt position change and how warm he felt with Nagito embracing him like this. 

Nagito hummed next to his ear, and Makoto shakily exhaled because it was illegal for a voice to get so low. The arms around his waist tightened; Makoto swore his heart skipped a beat when he felt something press against his lower back. “Hajime isn’t done with your legs yet…”

“Huh?” Makoto looked up to find Hajime shuffling in front of him, rolling his eyes.

“Way to scare him, Nagito.” He ran a hand up and down Makoto’s calf, leaving goosebumps. “Did you have to do it like that?”

“Sorry!” Nagito said even though he didn’t sound apologetic at all. He leaned closer and nuzzled Makoto’s cheek. “I was just so happy that Makoto feels the same way, and I guess I got too excited…”

Hajime sighed, fingers stalling as he asked, “Are you okay, Makoto?” He kneaded the muscles of his calf, and it shouldn’t be allowed to feel so _good._ “Do you want to keep going?”

He knew that Hajime wasn’t just talking about the massage. Hajime was talking about this whole thing, if he wanted it to continue. He could tell where this was leading, and...it was too early to stop. 

So, Makoto shifted back against Nagito, heard the sharp intake of breath, and spread his legs a little wider. He thickly swallowed. “Please…”

Hajime squeezed a little harder, eyes intense. “Alright. This is all about you.” He raised Makoto’s leg to kiss right below his knee. “We’ll take care of you.”

“All you have to do is relax,” Nagito whispered as Hajime focused on his right leg, peppering it with kisses. “Enjoy the show. Hajime is an amazing performer.”

Makoto didn’t doubt it, unable to take his eyes off the long-haired model in between his legs, lips sliding against sensitive skin. His breathing grew heavier when Hajime kitten-licked the underside of his knee before moving on to his thigh, leaving wet kisses wherever he could reach until Makoto’s boxers got in the way. Instead of asking to take them off like Makoto thought he was going to, Hajime switched sides, nosing his trembling thigh before looking Makoto in the eye and biting down.

It was so sudden and unexpected that Makoto cried out, tightly gripping Nagito’s legs just to have something to hold on to. He then whimpered when a hot tongue soothed the pain. 

“You make cute noises too,” Nagito said against the skin of his neck. “You can’t blame me for wanting to hear more.” He placed an open-mouthed kiss right below his jaw, and Makoto moaned, tilting his head so Nagito could have better access. Nagito scrapped teeth against his skin, sucking on his pulse to drive him crazy. “That’s it…”

Makoto could barely focus on him, for Hajime was grabbing at the fabric of his underwear, giving Makoto a look that only asked one question. He didn’t have to think about it. Makoto nodded, groaning as the friction if his boxers sent pleasure through his veins and as Nagito licked a stripe up his neck, nibbling at his ear lobe.

Makoto felt a bit self-conscious that his dick was out for all to see, but that soon faded away when Nagito cooed, “So pretty, Makoto. So full and thick and...mmmm…” Makoto felt Nagito’s erection twitch behind him. “Imagine it in Hajime’s mouth…”

He did, and he bit his lip to contain a needy whine.

However, his mouth fell open when Hajime wrapped his magical fingers around the base of his shaft, causing his hips to buck into the grip. Or at least attempt to. Nagito kept him pinned down, to his frustration.

“He doesn’t have to imagine anything,” Hajime said with a small smirk before leaning down and tonguing Makoto’s slit.

Makoto felt like he’d been struck by lightning. “Hajime!” he yelled, clawing at Nagito’s shorts and hearing breathy laughs in his ear. He couldn’t feel embarrassed or upset or anything because Hajime then parted his lips and swallowed him all the way down.

Makoto writhed in Nagito’s hold as his back arched, euphoria flooding his system. His toes curled and his legs locked around Hajime’s neck, keeping him there. Keeping his dick surrounded by that wet heat. Hajime wasn’t bothered at all. An experienced tongue lapped the underside of his swollen member, and Makoto threw his head back, a guttural moan aimed at the ceiling. It was too much but not enough at the same time. 

“You’re missing it, Makoto…” Thin fingers gripped his chin and lowered his head so Makoto saw nothing but Hajime swallowing down his cock, saliva dribbling down to his base. “Keep your eyes on him, okay?”

Makoto fought to keep his overloaded brain working. “O...kay…” he panted out, the delicate yet solid grip on his chin somehow making him even hotter. Was it because it was another restraint? He didn’t know and he didn’t care because Hajime started bobbing his head up and down, stealing all of the air from his lungs. 

His legs violently shook as Hajime sucked, making filthy noises fill the air and causing something inside Makoto to wind tighter and tighter. 

Until Hajime pulled off of him with a slurp. 

Makoto couldn’t keep down the whine this time. “N-No! I…” His aborted thrusts were no help in getting his dick back into that incredible mouth. Hajime didn’t respond to his plea, licking his swollen lips as he sat back up. “I’m so close! Please!”

“Shh…” Nagito prompted, nuzzling his cheek again. “That’s why he stopped. We want to make you feel as good as we possibly can.” Makoto had no clue about what he was talking about until the fingers on his chin loosened, instead rubbing at his bottom lip. “If you let us, of course.”

The feeling of Nagito’s cock against his back was more prominent now, and Makoto somehow got even _harder._ “Please…” he pleaded again before licking Nagito's digits and eagerly taking them into his mouth. 

He swiped his tongue along the bottom of those fingers, tasting nothing but Nagito, before grinding back against Nagito’s dick when they pressed back against his wet muscle. 

“Look at him, Hajime,” Nagito said, almost sounding awed as he pushed his fingers deeper, Makoto wetting then as much as he possibly could. “Amazing, right? How lucky are we to have him?”

“Very.” Hajime reached out to massage Makoto’s chest, brushing a nipple with his palm. Makoto shuddered and arced against the touch. Spittle dropped down his chin, and Hajime chuckled. “But is it really surprising with our talents?” He leaned closer and licked the wet trail, murmuring, “Or maybe we're not lucky at all. Maybe this was just meant to be.”

Nagito hummed as he pulled out his sopping fingers, leaving Makoto panting until Hajime licked into his mouth, stealing his breaths. Nagito’s next words were barely heard, Makoto keening when their tongues caressed each other, exploring everywhere. “Well, either answer could be right. But that hardly matters right now, does it?”

Makoto moaned into that intoxicating mouth, wandering hands still on his chest leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He was about to return the favor, going to reach under the shirt Hajime still wearing, but a finger sliding between his ass cheeks caught every ounce of his attention. 

He reluctantly separated from Hajime, but he didn’t get to look. Hajime cupped his jaw and whispered against his lips, “Just focus on me.” Then, he continued the kiss just as that finger pressed against his ring of muscle, pushing inside. 

Makoto instantly locked up and clamped down in it, his body instinctively wanting to get rid of the intrusion. However, his attention was quickly divided when Hajime sucked on his tongue and hummed, the vibration traveling to his core. His hands were roaming all over his torso, dull nails raking over sensitive skin. 

Nagito muttered nothing but praise into his ear as that finger slid farther in, causing a burn that was smothered by Hajime moving impossibly closer, molding their lips together like they had never meant to be apart. 

Another finger was soon added, and Makoto whimpered in pain. Hajime slid the hand up that was cupping his jaw to his hair, combing his fingers though like how Nagito did earlier. “You’re doing great,” Hajime encouraged, and Makoto felt his body relax even though those kisses had left him breathless. “It’ll stop hurting in a bit.”

“Sorry…” Nagito apologized after pecking his shoulder, scissoring inside him, thrusting in and out in a way that made Makoto want to both get away and drive them even _deeper._ “You’re just so tight, and-“

Those fingers then struck a bundle of nerves hidden inside of him, and the moan that tore out of Makoto’s throat was feral. The last thing he felt was ashamed. His veins felt like live wires as he ground back against Nagito, craving that feeling again. “R-Right there! It doesn’t hurt, just do that again, please…”

Hajime stared at him in shock, pupils blown wide, before recapturing his lips. His tongue thrusted into Makoto's mouth, imitating what Nagito was doing down below. Every hit to his prostate ended up with him crying into Hajime’s sweet kisses, and a thumb simultaneously wiped his tears away. 

He felt precum leaking out of his forgotten dick, staining the sheets under them. Hajime’s thigh was so, _so_ close to rub against, but it was out of reach and suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore because the warmth around him unexpectedly disappeared, leaving him cold and empty. 

“Wh-What…” Makoto looked behind him in surprise, feeling his hole clench around nothing but air. His foggy mind slowly processing that Nagito had stood off the bed, now shedding his clothes and tossing them onto the floor. He was all fair skin and lean muscle, and Makoto couldn’t take his eyes off the taller one’s standing dick. 

Nagito chuckled as he crawled back into bed, getting in the same position as before. He wrapped his arms around Makoto, and he could feel everything. His radiant heat, his sturdy chest, and his member slotting in between his cheeks. Nagito rocked a bit, and they groaned simultaneously. It was so _close_ to where it needed to be. 

Hajime’s smile was knowing as he whispered, “Nagito is going to fuck you, Makoto.” The wording by itself was enough to make his cock twitch, leakage spilling down his shaft. “I had lost rock-paper-scissors, but there’s always next time,” he teased, kissing the tip of his nose.

Next time? Makoto didn’t think that he’d survive _this_ time, let alone the next. 

“And if you think I’m impressive, you should see his,” Nagito purred, the rumble deep in his chest.

Makoto’s gaze dropped to Hajime’s lap, and the obvious tent in his shorts sent his imagination into overdrive. “I want to see it,” his mouth said without his mind’s permission, blushing after he realized.

Hajime’s smile widened, not saying a word as he leaned back, working down his shorts and boxers. His dick sprung up, and Makoto immediately wanted to touch, to wrap his lips around it. It was as long as Nagito’s but a little thicker, the leaking precum making the veins running up and down the shaft shine.

Hajime leisurely pumped it, and Nagito was the one to quietly moan. “It gets you so _full_ , Makoto. I can’t wait until he puts it inside you.”

“You don’t have to wait…” Makoto muttered, and he stuttered in embarrassment - his mouth has betrayed him too many times - when Nagito hummed in question. “I-I mean, while you…” He couldn't say it; they knew what he was talking about. “I could...repay the favor to Hajime.”

“Repay?” Hajime repeated before understanding. His smile marginally waned. “You don’t have to. This is all about you-“

“I want to,” Makoto interrupted with a confidence that sprung out of nowhere. He leaned forward, Nagito loosening his hold on him, and shuffled between Hajime’s legs on his hands and knees. Surprised eyes were on him as he lowered himself onto his elbows, ass still in the air. He was eye level with Hajime’s dick. He gave the tip an experimental lick.

Hajime sharply inhaled, lips parting. “Nagito,” was all he said before there was a shuffling behind Makoto, and a hand traveled up and down his back. It then drifted to the curve of his ass, squeezing and moving a cheek to the side. Makoto shivered when air hit his hole.

That shiver turned into a full-body tremble when something hotter and way thicker than two fingers teased his opening. “Are you ready for me, Makoto?” Nagito asked behind him, massaging a hip with a warm hand. “Oh, and we’re both clean, if you were worried.”

Makoto gave a small smile. “I-I wasn’t. But yeah, go ahea - _hhnnnnnnggg…”_ His jaw dropped when Nagito pushed inside, stretching and filling him up bit by bit. The burn was even more intense as he made room for himself, and that somehow made it _better._

After what seemed like an eternity, Nagito was seated all the way inside of him; Makoto felt like he was being split in half. He panted harshly as his lungs worked overtime, and his legs had been reduced to jelly. He almost collapsed when Nagito plastered himself against his back, one arm around his waist and the other curling into the sheets below. 

Lips kissed between his shoulder blades. “So good, Makoto. You’re so good…” Another lingering smooch. “Tell me when I can move.”

Makoto hardly had enough air to speak. He rasped, “When I…” He glanced up at Hajime, and he found him staring right back, gaze dark and intense. Makoto didn’t - couldn’t - continue, finding talking too difficult at the moment. Instead, he focused on the dick in front of his face and wrapped his lips around the head.

Hajime’s groan was deep and sultry and it convinced him to take it deeper, tongue lapping at the slit. A hand buried itself in his hair, gently tugging, and Hajime barked out, “Move, Nagito.”

The slight tightening of the arm around him was the only warning before Nagito slid out and thrusted back in, causing Makoto’s eyes to roll back. He moaned around Hajime’s dick, sloppily sucking on it as Nagito did it again and again, gaining tempo, hitting that same bundle of nerves _every time._

 _“Fuck,”_ Hajime hissed, and the grip on his hair tightened, hurting so good. Makoto took him deeper, bobbing his head as he fucked back into Nagito’s cock. He breathed, felt, tasted, and heard nothing but them. Their moans were louder than his muffled ones, and a warmth not related to the searing heat racing down south spread throughout his chest. He was doing this to them. They were like this because of _him._

And it was that thought that sent him over the edge.

Makoto screamed, vision blurring as cum splattered the sheets under him. Well, that was until Hajime yanked his head and made him sink down to the base, throat spasming around the thick girth. He struggled to gasp around it as Nagito continued to plow into him; his fingers curled into the blanket as he took it, body plaint until they could reach the same high he felt. Makoto didn't know how long it was until Hajime lifted him off his pulsing dick, breaths harsh as spurts landed on his cheeks, in his hair, on his awaiting tongue.

At the same time, cum filled him up from behind, pumping and pumping until he felt some drip down his thighs. 

As soon as Nagito pulled out, Makoto collapsed onto the bed. He took deep breaths as he swallowed, still on cloud nine, and sighed when fingers combed through his hair. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” Nagito complimented breathily, and there was a kiss on his temple. 

Hajime quietly chuckled. “Even so, I think we should clean him up. Feel like moving, Makoto?”

No, he felt like sleeping, or doing anything else that didn’t require using any of his heavy limbs. 

“Hajime! The least amount of work possible, remember?”

“Right, right. Sorry.” The hand in his hair went away, there was movement out-of-sight that Makoto was too tired to look at, and then arms slid under his body, cradling his knees and upper back. 

He was lifted and held against a bare chest. Sighing again, he snuggled against it, relaxing without a worry in the world. 

Nagito laughed behind his hand. “Just like a puppy.” 

“Stop it…” Makoto groused, voice cracking because of his raw throat. 

Hajime joined in the laughter this time while holding him closer, and Makoto tucked his head to hide his smile.

This was definitely something he could get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naegiri is one of my OTPs, but anything involving Hajime/Makoto, Nagito/Makoto, or all three of them really hits my weak spot for some reason. Gotta love those lucky boys.


End file.
